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THE  JONES   FAMILY 


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CONCERNING 


JONES     FAMILY 


BY 

TIMOTHY   TITCOMB 

AUTHOR  OF    "  LETTERS  TO   YOUNG   PEOPLE,"    "  GOLD-FOIL,"    "  LESSONS   IN 
UFK,"    ETC.,   ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 


1557 


Copyright  by 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER 

1863 

Copyright  by 

J.  G.  HOLLAND 

1881 


Trow's 

Printing  and  Bookbinding  Company 

201-213  Eitst  \2th  Street 

NEW  YORK 


PREFACE. 


THE  form  in  which  this  book  was  originally 
written  has  never  satisfied  me.  Courteous 
men  do  not  write  outspoken  letters  of  condemna- 
tion and  counsel  to  their  acquaintances,  and 
although  my  men  and  women  were  men  and 
women  of  straw,  I  owed  them  polite  treatment, 
to  say  the  least.  So  I  have  entirely  rewritten 
the  book,  transforming  the  letters  into  sketches 
of  personal  types,  and  thus  doing  away  with  the 
seeming  discourtesy  and  impertinence  of  the 
previous  form  of  direct  address.  I  believe  that 
all,  that  was  valuable  in  the  book  has  been  re- 
tained, and  that  the  articles  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed will  be  read  with  more  profit  and  pleasure 
in  consequence  of  the  change. 

New  York,  i88i. 


CONTENTS. 


DEACON  SOLOMON  JONES. 

PAGE 

The  Consideration  of  His  System  of  Family  Gov- 
ernment,   1 


MRS.  MARTHA  JONES,  WIFE  OF  DEACON  SOLOMON. 
Concerning  Her  System  of  Family  Government,    .    14 

F.  MENDELSSOHN  JONES,  SINGING-MASTER. 

Concerning  the  Influence  of  His  Profession  on 
Personal  Character ^. 

HANS  SACHS  JONES,   SHOEMAKER. 
Concerning  His  Habit  of  Business  Lying,         .       .    42 

EDWARD   PAYSON  JONES, 

CoNQSRNiNG  His  Fai;,uee,  to  YiBLfl  to  H;s  Con.yic- 
tions  of  Duty, 54 


viii  Contents. 

MRS.   JESSY   BELL  JONES. 

PaGB 

Concerning   the   Difficulty   She   Experiences   in 
Keeping  Her  Servants 67 


SALATHIAL  FOGG  JONES. 

Concerning  the  Faith  and  Prospects  of  His  Sect 
OF  Religionists 80 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN  JONES.   MECHANIC. 

Concerning   His   Habitual  Absence  from  Church 
ON  Sunday, 94 


WASHINGTON  ALLSTON  JONES. 

Concerning    the    Policy    of    Making    His   Brains 
Marketable, 106 


REV.    JEREMIAH  JONES,    D.D. 
Concerning  the  Failure  of  His  Pulpit  Ministry,  .  119 

STEPHEN   GIRARD  JONES. 
Concerning  the  Best  Way  of  Spending  His  Money,  .  133 

NOEL  JONES. 

Concerning  His   Opinion   that   He   Knows  Pretty 
Much  Everything 146 

RUFUS  CHOATE  JONES,   LAWYER. 

Concerning  the  Duties  and  Dangers  of  His  Pro- 
fession  158 


Contents.  ix 

MRS.   ROYAL  PURPLE  JONES. 

PAGB 

Concerning  Hbr  Absorbing  Devotion  to  Her  Own 
Person, 173 

MISS  FELICIA  HEMANS  JONES. 

Concerning    Her    Strong   Desire   to    Become    an 
Author 186 

JEHU  JONES. 

Concerning    the    Character    and    Tendencies    of 
THE  Fast  Life  which  He  is  Living,        .        .        .  199 


THOMAS  ARNOLD  JONES,  SCHOOLMASTER. 

Concerning  the  Requirements  and  the  Tendencies 
of  His  Profession 211 


MRS.    ROSA  HOPPIN  JONES. 

Concerning    Her    Dislike    of    Routine   and    Her 
Desire  for  Change  and  Amusement,      .        .       .  224 


JEFFERSON   DAVIS  JONES,    POLITICIAN. 

Concerning  the   Immorality  of   His   Pursuits,  and 
Their  Effect  Upon  Himself  and  His  Country,    .  236 


DR.    BENJAMIN   RUSH  JONES. 

Concerning  the  Position  of  Himself  and  His  Pro- 
fession  250 

DIOGENES  JONES. 
CoNCEr.NiNG  His  Disposition  to  Avoid  Society,        ,  264 


af;  Contents. 

SAUL  M.  JONES. 

PAGB 
CONCERNIJ4G  HiS,  HABJT  OF   LOOKING  UPON  THE  DARK 

Side  of  Things, 274 


JOHN   SMITH  JONES. 

Concerning   His   Neighborly  Duties  and  His  Fail- 
ure TO  Perform  Them 285 


GOODRICH  JDN^S,  JR. 

Concerning  His  Disposition  to  be  Content  with 
THB  Respectability  and  Wealth  which  His 
Father  has  Acquired  for  Him,       .      .       .       .  29J 


CONCERNING  THE 


JONES    FAMILY 


DEACON  SOLOMON  JONES. 

THE  CONSIDERATION  OF  HIS  SYSTEM  OF  FAMILY 
GOVERNMENT. 

DEACON  SOLOMON  JONES  is  now  an  old  man, 
and  I  do  not  expect  that  anything  that  I  shall  write 
about  him  will  do  him  any  good,  I  only  seek,  through 
what  I  say  concerning  him,  to  convey  useful  hints  and 
lessons  to  others.  It  would  not  be  a  pleasure  to  me 
to  wound  his  self-love,  or  to  disturb  the  complacency 
which  he  entertains  amid  the  wreck  of  his  family  hopes. 
It  is  not  delightful  to  assure  him  that  his  life  has  been  a 
mistake  from  the  beginning,  and  that  his  children  owe 
the  miscarriage  of  their  lives  to  the  training  which  he 
still  seems  to  regard  as  alike  the  offspring  and  parent  of 

Christian  wisdona.     If  there  wer;e  not  others  in  the  world 
I 


2  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

who  are  making  the  same  mistake  that  he  has  made, 
and  moving  forward  to  the  same  sad  family  disaster, 
there  would  be  no  word  from  me  that  he  could  shape 
into  a  reproach.  But  he  will  soon  pass  away,  with  the 
comforting  assurance  that  his  motives,  at  least,  were 
good  ;  and  to  these,  his  only  comforts,  I  commend  him. 
He  was  once  the  great  man  of  Jonesville.  He  then 
deemed  it  necessary  to  maintain  a  dignified  deportment, 
to  take  the  lead  in  all  matters  of  public  moment,  to 
manage  the  Jonesville  church  and  the  Jonesville  minis- 
ter, and  to  exercise  a  general  supervision  of  the  village. 
There  was  not  a  man,  woman,  or  child  in  the  village 
who  did  not  feel  his  presence  as  that  of  an  independent, 
arbitrary  power,  that  permitted  no  liberty  of  will  around 
it.  He  had  his  notions  of  politics,  religion,  municipal 
affairs,  education,  social  life ;  and  to  these  he  tried  to 
bend  every  mind  that  came  into  contact  with  him.  He 
undertook  to  think  for  his  neighbors,  and  to  impose 
upon  them  his  own  law  in  all  things.  If  one  inde- 
pendent man  spoke  out  his  thoughts  and  refused  to  be 
bound  to  his  will,  that  man  was  sure  of  persecution. 
Deacon  Jones  beset  him  behind  and  before  by  petty 
annoyances.  He  took  away  his  business,  and  sneered 
at  him  in  public  and  private.  In  this  way  Deacon 
Jones  banished  from  Jonesville  many  men  who  would 
have  been  an  honor  to  it,  and  finally  alienated  from 
himself  the  hearts  of  his  own  kindred.  He  drove  the 
whole  village   into   opposition   to  himself.     He  forced 


Deacon  Solomon  Jones.  3 

them  to  a  self-assertion  that  manifested  itself  in  a  multi- 
tude of  offensive  and  improper  ways.  If  he  opposed  a 
harmless  dance  at  a  neighbor's  house,  the  villagers  re- 
venged themselves  by  holding  a  ball  at  the  tavern.  It 
took  only  a  few  years  of  his  peculiar  management  to 
fill  Jonesville  with  doggeries  and  loafers,  and  to  prove 
to  him  that  his  village  management  had  been  a  sorry 
failure. 

He  seems  to  have  conducted  life  upon  the  assumption 
that  all  the  men  in  the  world,  with  the  exception  of 
Deacon  Solomon  Jones,  were  incapable  of  self-govern- 
ment. It  never  seemed  to  occur  to  him,  in  any  dispute 
with  a  neighbor,  or  in  any  difificulty  which  arrayed  the 
public  against  him,  that  he  could  possibly  be  in  the 
wrong ;  and  it  always  has  offended  him  to  think  that 
any  other  Jones,  or  any  other  man,  should  dare  to  con- 
trovert his  opinions  or  question  his  decisions.  And  he 
was  so  stupid  that,  when  all  his  neighbors — after  much 
long-suffering  and  patient  waiting  upon  his  whims — re- 
belled against  him,  and  went  to  extremes  to  show  their 
independence  of  and  contempt  for  him,  he  attributed 
the  work  of  his  own  hands  to  the  devil. 

The  Lord  gave  to  Deacon  Solomon  Jones  a  respecta- 
ble quantity  of  brains,  and  Yankee  enterprise  got  him 
money.  Had  there  been  proper  management  on  his 
part,  Jonesville  would  be  in  his  hands  to-day  ;  but  he 
must  be  aware  that  by  far  the  larger  proportion  of  his 
fellow-citizens  either  do  not  love  him,  or  that  they  posi- 


4  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

lively  hate  him.  How  has  this  state  of  things  been  ar- 
rived at?  Certainly  not  by  his  haVing  been  as  wise  as 
a  serpent  and  harmless  as  a  dove.  He  can  hardly  be- 
lieve that  the  loss  of  his  influence  is  attributable  rather 
to  the  popular  than  to  his  own  personal  perverseness. 
I  do  not  expect  to  make  him  see  it,  but  he  really  did  his 
best  to  make  slaves  of  his  felloWs-;  and  his  fellows,  recog- 
nizing him  as  a  tyrant,  kicked  over  his  throne,  and 
tumbled  him  into  his  chimney-comer,  where  alone  he 
had  the  power  to  put  hispeculiar  theories  into  practice. 

A  man  does  not  usually  have  one  set  of  notions  con- 
cerning neighborhood  government  and  another  concern- 
ing family  government.  He  managed  his  family  very 
much  as  he  undertook  to  manage  his  village.  I  can,  in- 
deed, bear  witness  that  he  gave  his  family  line  upon  line 
and  pi"ecept  upon  precept;  but  I  am  not  so  ready  to 
concede  that  he  trained  them  up  in  the  right  way.  His 
family  was  an  orderly  one,  I  admit ;  but  I  have  seen  jails 
and  houses  of  Correction  that  were  more  orderly  still. 
An  orderly  house  is  quite  as  liable  to  be  governed  too 
much,  as  a  disorderly  house  is  to  be  governed  too  little. 

I  always  noticed  this  fact  with  relation  to  his  mode  of 
family  training.  He  enforced  a  blind  obedience  to  his 
commands,  and  never  deemed  it  necessary  or  desirable 
to  give  a  reason  for  them.  Nay,  he  told  his  children, 
distinctly,  that  it  was  enough  for  them  that  he  com- 
manded a  thing  to  be  done.  He  refused  to  give  them  a 
reason  beyond  his  own  wish  and  will.     He  placed  him- 


Deacon  Solomon  Jdiiis.  5 

""selfbetween  them  and  their  own  consciences  ;  he  pliCed 
hiniiself  between  ttiem  and  their  o^n  sehse  of  that  which 
was  just  and  proper  and  good  ;  nay,  he  placed  himself  be- 
tween them  and  God,  and  demanded  that  they  should 
obey  him  because  he  willed  it — because  he  commanded 
them  to  obey  him. 

It  is  comparatively  an  easy  thing  to  get  up  an  orderly 
family,  on  such  a  plan  of  operations  as  this.  A  man 
needs  ottly  to'haVe  a  strong  ami,  Ja  broad  palm,  and  a 
heart  thit  never  opens  to  pareiital  tenderness,  to  secure 
the  most  orderly  family  in  the  world.     It  is  not  a  hard 

"thing  for  a' ttian  who  weighs  two  hundred  pounds,' more 
or  less,  to  make  a  boy  who  weighs  only  fifty  pounds  so 
much  dread  him  as  to  obey  his  minutest  commands.  In- 
deed,'itis  not  a  Hard  thing  to  break  down  hiswillen- 
tirely,  and  make  a  craven  of  him.     The  most  orderly 

"families  I  have  ever  known  were  the  worst  governed ; 
and  one  of  these  families  was  that  of  Deacon  Jones.  He 
is  "not  the  fifst  man  who  has  "brought  up  "  aii  orderly 

"family,"  and  fitted  them  for  the  devil's  hand  by  his  sys- 
tem of  government. 

I  know  the  history  of  his "  children,  and  in  inariy  re- 
spects it  is  a  bad  one  and  a  sad  one.  He  governed 
them.  He  laid  his  law  upon  them.  He  forced  upon 
them  his  will  as'  their  supreme  rule  of  actidn.  They  did 
not  fear  God  half  so  much  as  they  feared  him;  though, 
if  I  remember  correctly,  he  represented  God  to  be  a 
sort  of  infinite  Deacon  Solomon  Jones.     They  did  not 


6  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

fear  to  lie  half  so  much  as  they  feared  to  be  flogged. 
They  became  hypocrites  through  their  fear  of  him,  and 
they  learned  to  hate  him  because  he  persisted  in  treat- 
ing them  as  servile  dependents.  He  put  himself  before 
them  and  thrust  himself  into  their  life  in  the  place  of 
God.  He  bent  them  to  his  will  with  those  strong  hands 
of  his,  and  he  had  "an  orderly  family." 

When  I  think  of  the  families  that  have  been  trained 
and  ruined  in  this  way,  I  shudder.  The  children  of 
Deacon  Jones  were  never  permitted  to  have  any  will ; 
and  when  they  went  forth  from  his  threshold,  they  went 
forth  emancipated  slaves  and  untried  children  in  the 
use  of  liberty.  When  they  found  the  hand  of  parental 
restraint  removed,  there  was  no  restraint  upon  them. 
They  had  never  been  taught  that  most  essential  of  all 
government,  self-government ;  and  a  man  who  has  not 
been  taught  to  govern  himself  is  as  helpless  in  the  world 
as  a  child.  A  family  may  be  orderly  to  a  degree  of 
nicety  that  is  really  admirable,  and  still  be  as  incapable 
of  self-government  as  a  family  of  idiots.  Families  that 
might  be  reckoned  by  thousands  have  left  orderly  homes, 
all  prepared  for  the  destruction  to  which  they  rushed. 

The  military  commander  knows  very  well  that  he  says 
very  little  as  to  the  moral  character  of  his  soldiers  when 
he  says  they  are  under  excellent  discipline.  The  drill 
of  the  camp  may  make  the  camp  the  most  orderly  of 
places,  but  this  drill  does  not  go  beyond  the  camp,  oi 
deeper  than  the  surface  of  the  character.     Take  from 


Deacon  Solomon  Jones.  7 

the  shoulders  of  these  soldiers  the  strong  hand  of  mili- 
tary control,  and  you  will  have — as  ordinary  armies  go 
— a  mass  of  swearing,  gaming,  drinking  rowdies,  ready 
to  rush  into  any  excess.  The  state  prison  is  the  most 
orderly  place  in  the  world.  The  drill  is  faultless.  I 
know  of  no  place  where,  among  an  equal  number  of  men 
gathered  from  the  lower  walks  of  society,  there  are  so 
few  breaches  of  decorum  ;  yet,  when  the  inmates  reap- 
pear in  society,  they  are  not  improved.  Deacon  Jones 
undertook  to  introduce  a  military  drill,  or  prison  drill, 
or  both,  into  his  family  ;  and  he  failed  precisely  as  gen- 
erals and  wardens  fail.  He  never  recognized  the  fact 
that  the  essential  part  of  a  child's  education  is  that  of 
teaching  him  the  use  of  his  liberty,  under  the  control  of 
his  sense  of  that  which  is  right  and  proper  and  laudable 
in  human  conduct.  He  did  not  undertake  to  develop 
and  enlighten  that  sense  at  all.  He  managed  his  chil- 
dren, instead  of  teaching  them  how  to  manage  them- 
selves. He  never  appealed  to  their  sense  of  honor,  or 
to  their  sense  of  right  or  propriety,  as  the  motive  to  any 
desirable  course  of  conduct ;  and  when  he  placed  his 
command  upon  one  of  them,  and  that  one  dared  to  ask 
after  the  reason,  he  was  crushed  into  silence  by  the  as- 
surance that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  reason. 

It  is  not  uncommon  to  hear  the  assertion  that  the  sons 
of  ministers  and  deacoris  turn  out  badly.  Statistics 
show  that  the  statement  is  too  broad,  yet  common  ob- 
servation unites  in  giving  it  some  basis  in  truth.     It  is 


8  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

not  at  all  uncommon  to  see  the  children  of  excellent 
parents — children  who  have  been  bred  in  the  most 
orderly  manner — going  straight  to  destruction  the  mo- 
ment they  leave  the  family  roof  and  cease  to  feel  paren- 
tal restraint.  These  parents  feel,  doubtless,  very  much 
as  Deacon  Jones  did,  that  it  is  all  a  mysterious  dispensa- 
tion of  Providence,  while  it  is  only  the  natural  result  of 
their  style  of  training. 

I  know  of  public  institutions  for  the  reform  of  vagrant 
children,  that  are  celebrated  for  the  delightful  manner 
in  which  those  children  are  brought  to  square  their  con- 
duct by  rule.  They  march  like  soldiers.  They  sing 
like  machines.  They  enter  their  school-room  in  silent 
files  that  would  delight  the  eye  of  an  Indian  warrior. 
They  recite  in  concert  the  most  complicated  prose  and 
verse.  They  play  by  rule,  and  go  to  bed  to  the  ringing 
of  a  bell,  and  say  the  Lord's  prayer  in  unison.  And 
they  run  away  when  they  can  get  a  chance,  and  steal, 
and  swear,  and  cheat,  and  prowl,  and  indulge  in  ob- 
scene talk,  as  of  old.  I  know  of  other  public  institutions 
of  this  kind  that  have  no  rule  of  action  except  the  gen- 
eral Christian  rule  within  it.  The  children  are  taught  to 
do  right.  They  are  instructed  in  that  which  is  right. 
Their  sense  of  that  which  is  true  and  good  and  pure  and 
right  and  proper  is  educated,  developed,  stimulated, 
and  thus  are  the  children  taught  to  govern  themselves. 
They  govern  themselves  while  in  the  institution,  and 
they  govern  themselves  after  they  leave  it.     It  is  impos- 


Deacon  Solomon  Jones.  9 

sible  to  reform  a  vicious  child  without  patiently  teaching 
that  child  self-government.  All  the  drill  of  all  the  mas- 
ters and  all  the  reformers  in  the  world  will  not  reform  a 
single  vice  of  a  single  child  ;  and  this  show  of  juvenile 
drill  that  we  meet  with  in  schools  and  charitable  institu- 
tions is  frequently — nay,  I  will  say  generally — a  most 
deceitful  thing — the  specious  cover  of  a  system  of  train- 
ing that  is  terribly  worse  than  useless.  If  dogs  could 
talk,  they  could  be  taught  to  do  the  same  thing  in 
the  same  way ;  but  they  would  hunt  cats  and  bark  at 
passengers  in  the  old  fashion  when  beyond  the  reach  of 
their  master's  lash. 

Deacon  Jones's  mode  of  family  training  has  intro- 
duced me  to  a  field  of  discussion  as  wide  as  it  is  im- 
portant. It  relates  to  public  institutions  as  well  as  to 
families,  and  to  nations  as  well  as  to  public  institutions. 
The  people  of  Ameiica  have  been  indulging  in  dreams 
of  democracy  in  Europe  ;  but  these  dreams  do  not  come 
to  pass,  and  are  not  likely  soon  to  be  realized.  The 
people  of  Europe  have  been  governed.  They  know 
nothing  about  self-government,  and,  whenever  they 
have  tried  the  experiment,  they  have  usually  failed. 
That  which  alone  imperils  democracy  in  this  country  is 
the  loss  of  the  power  of  self  government,  and  that  which 
alone  prevents  the  establishment  of  democracy  in  Eu- 
rope is  the  lack  of  that  power.  The  governing  classes 
of  Europe  will  take  good  care  to  see  that  that  power  be 
not  developed. 


lO  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

But  I  return  to  this  matter  of  family  government,  and 
I  imagine  that  I  am  asked  whether  I  intend  to  sneer 
at  orderly  families.  I  answer,  not  at  all.  There  must 
be,  without  question,  more  or  less  repression  of  the  ir- 
regularities of  young  life,  and  of  such  rough  passions  as 
sometimes  break  out  and  gain  ascendancy  in  certain 
natures ;  but  this  should  be  exceptional,  I  do  not 
sneer  at  orderly  families,  but  I  like  to  see  order  growing 
out  of  each  member's  sense  of  propriety,  and  each  mem- 
ber's desire  to  contribute  to  the  general  good  conduct 
and  harmony  of  the  family  life.  I  like  to  see  each  child 
gradually  transformed  into  a  gentleman  or  a  lady,  with 
gentlemanly  or  ladylike  habits,  through  a  cultivated 
sense  of  that  which  is  proper  and  good.  I  know  that 
children  thus  bred — taught  from  the  beginning  that  they 
have  a  stake  and  a  responsibility  in  the  family  life — 
used  from  the  beginning  to  manage  themselves — are 
prepared  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  take  care  of 
themselves.  To  them  home  is  a  place  of  dignity,  and 
they  will  never  disgrace  it.  To  them  liberty  is  no  new 
possession,  and  they  know  how  to  use  without  abusing 
it.  To  them  self-control  is  a  habit,  and  they  never 
lose  it. 

I  have  often  wondered  whether  Deacon  Jones  knows 
what  a  child  is,  I  have  wondered  if  he  thinks  whence  it 
came  and  whither  it  is  going — whether  it  ever  occurred 
to  him  that  any  one  of  his  children  is  a  good  deal  more 
God's  child  than  it  is  his.     I  have  wondered  whether  he 


Deacon  Solomon  Jones.  H 

ever  happened  to  think  that  it  came  from  heaven,  and 
that  it  is  more  his  brother  than  his  child.  I  doubt 
whether  he  has  ever  thought  anything  of  the  kind.  He 
has  never  dreamed  that  his  children  are  his  younger 
brothers  and  sisters,  intrusted  to  him  by  their  common 
Father  for  the  purposes  of  protection  and  education. 
He  certainly  has  never  treated  them  as  if  they  were. 
He  has  not  a  child  in  the  world  whose  pardon  he  should 
not  ask  for  the  impudent  and  most  unbrotherly  assump- 
tions which  he  has  practised  upon  it.  Ah  !  if  he  could 
have  looked  upon  his  sons  as  his  younger  brothers  and 
his  daughters  as  his  younger  sisters,  patiently  borne 
with  them  and  instructed  them  in  the  use  of  life  and 
liberty,  and  built  them  up  into  a  self- regulated  man- 
hood and  womanhood,  he  would  not  now  be  alone  and 
comfortless.  A  child  is  not  a  horse  or  a  dog,  to  be  con- 
trolled by  a  walking-stick  or  a  whip,  under  all  circum- 
stances. There  are  some  children  that,  like  some  dogs 
and  horses,  have  vicious  tendencies  that  can  only  be 
repressed  by  the  infliction  of  pain  ;  but  a  child  is  not  a 
brute,  and  is  not  to  be  governed  like  a  brute.  A  child 
is  a  young  man  or  a  young  woman,  possessing  man's  or 
woman's  faculties  in  miniature,  and  is  just  as  sensitive 
to  insult  and  injury  and  injustice  as  in  after  years. 
Deacon  Jones  has  insulted  his  children.  He  has  treated 
them  unreasonably,  and  he  ought  not  to  complain  if 
they  hold  him  in  dislike  and  revengeful  contempt. 
He  never  did  anything  to  make  his   children  love 


12  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

him,  and  he  cannot  but  be  aware  that,  the  moment  they 
were  removed  from  his  authority,  he  lost  all  influence 
over  them.  Why  could  he  not  reclaim  that  son  who 
madly  became  a  debauchee  and  disgraced  his  home 
and  tortured  his  heart  ?  Because  he  had  never  won 
that  son's  love,  or  given  him  better  motives  for  self- 
restraint  than  his  own  arbitrary  will.  He  had  been  gov- 
erned from  the  outside,  and  never  from  the  inside  ;  and 
when  the  outside  authority  was  gone,  there  was  nothing 
left  upon  which  Deacon  Jones  had  power  to  lay  his 
hand.  Why  did  that  daughter  elope  with  one  who  was 
not  worthy  of  her  ?  She  did  it  simply  because  she 
found  a  man  who  loved  her  and  gave  her  the  considera- 
tion due  her  as  a  woman — a  love  and  a  consideration 
which  she  had  never  found  at  home,  where  she  was  rcr 
garded  by  her  father  as  the  dependent  ser\'ant  of  his 
will.  She  was  nothing  at  home  ;  and,  badly  as  she 
married,  she  is  a  better,  a  freer  and  a  happier  woman 
than  she  would  have  been  had  she  continued  in  her 
home.  These  children  of  Deacon  Jones  went  astray — 
not  in  despite  of  his  mode  of  family  training,  be  it  under- 
stood, but  in  consequence  of  it.  If  I  should  wish  to 
ruin  my  family,  I  would  pursue  his  policy,  and  be  meas- 
urably sure  of  the  desired  result. 

It  is  not  pleasant  for  me  to  write  these  things  ;  but  I 
am  writing  for  the  public,  and  can  have  no  choice. 
I  must  say  to  all  who  read  these  words,  that,  if  they  do 
not  get  the  hearts  of  their  children,  and  build  them  up 


Deacon  Solomon  Jones.  13 

in  the  right  use  of  a  liberty  which  is  no  more  theirs  after 
they  leave  their  homes  than  it  is  before,  they  will  be  to 
those  children  forever  as  heathen  men  and  publicans. 
If  these  children  take  the  determination  to  go  to  de- 
struction, they  will  go,  and  nothing  that  their  parents 
can  place  in  their  way  can  save  them.  A  child  must 
have  freedom,  within  limits  which  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances must  define,  and  be  taught  how  to  use  it,  and 
made  responsible  for  the  right  use  of  it.  It  is  in  this 
way  that  self-government  is  taught,  and  in  this  thing 
that  self-government  consists.  All  children,  on  arriving 
at  manhood  and  womanhood,  should  be  the  self-gov- 
erned companions  and  friends  of  their  parents  ;  and  on 
their  going  out  into  the  world,  or  losing  parental  con- 
trol, they  should  not  feel  the  transition  in  the  slightest 
degree.  No  child  is  trained  in  the  right  way  who  feels, 
when  he  steps  forth  from  the  family  threshold — an  inde- 
pendent actor — any  less  restraint  than  he  felt  the  hour 
before.  If  he  does,  he  is  in  danger  of  falling  before  the 
first  temptation  that  assails  him. 


MRS.   MARTHA  JONES, 

WIFE  OF  DEACON  SOLOMON. 

CONCERNtNG  HER  SYSTEM   OF  FAMILY  GOVERi^- 
MENT. 

I  SUPPOSE  I  have  thought  of  Mrs.  Martha  Jones  ten 
thousand  times  within  the  last  twenty  years.  I 
never  see  a  clean  kitchen,  or  a  trim  and  tidy  housewife^ 
or  an  irreproachable  "  dresser,"  with  its  shining  rows  of 
tin  and  pewter,  or  a  dairy  full  of  milk,  or  a  cleanly  raked 
chip-yard,  or  polished  brass  andirons,  flaming  with  fire 
on  one  side  and  reflecting  ugly  faces  on  the  other,  or 
catch  a  savory  scent  of  breakfast  on  a  frosty  morning, 
or  see  a  number  of  children  crowded  out  of  a  door  on 
their  way  to  school,  without  thinking  of  her.  Thriving, 
busy,  exact,  scrupulous,  neat,  minute  in  her  supervision 
of  all  family  concerns,  striving  to  have  her  own  way  with- 
out interfering  with  the  Deacon's,  she  has  always  lingered 
in  my  memory  as  a  remarkable  woman.  She  sat  up  so 
late  at  night  and  rose  so  early  in  the  morning,  that  it 
seems  as  if  she  never  slept.  There  was  a  chronic  alert- 
ness about  her  that  detected  and  even  anticipated  every 


Mrs.  Martha  Jonis.  15 

occurrence  in  and  around  the  house.  Not  a  door  could 
be  opened  or  a  window  l-aiSed  in  any  part  of  the  house, 
however  distant  it  might  be,  without  her  hearing  and 
identifying  it.  Not  a  voice  was  heard  within  the  house 
at  any  time  of  the  day  or  night  that  she  did  not  know 
who  uttered  it.  Her  soul  seemed  to  have  become  the 
tenant  of  the  whole  building,  and  to  be  conscious  of 
every  occurrence  in  every  part  of  it  at  every  moment. 
She  hot  only  knew  what  was  going  on  everywhere  within 
it,  but  every  part  spoke  of  her  presence. 

She  had  a  curious  way  of  maintaining  the  family  har- 
mony without  the  sacrifice  of  her  own  sense  of  inde- 
pendence. She  really  carried  on  a  very  independent 
life  within  certain  limits.  She  was  aware  that,  in  the 
matter  of  will,  the  deacon,  her  husband,  was  very  obsti- 
nate, and  that  she  could  never  hope  to  dispute  his  em- 
pire. So  she  shrewdly  managed  never  to  cross  him 
where  the  course  of  his  will  ran  the  strongest,  and  to  be 
sure  that  no  one  else  crossed  him.  I  remember  very 
well  her  look  of  amazement  and  reproof  when  she  heard 
me  treat  with  apparent  irreverence  some  of  his  most 
rigidly  fixed  opinions,  and  assail  prejudices  which  she 
knew  were  as  deeply  seated  as  his  life.  I  enjoyed  her 
look  of  amazement  quite  as  much  as  I  did  the  deacon's 
anger,  for  it  seemed  to  me  a  very  justifiable  bit  of  mis- 
chief to  break  into  a  family  peace  that  was  maintained 
in  this  way.  By  humoring  and  indulging  her  husband, 
in  all  matters  over  which  he  saw  fit  to  exercise  authority, 


l6  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

and  by  so  closely  attending  to  everything  else  that  he 
did  not  think  of  it,  she  kept  him  in  a  state  of  self-com- 
placency, and  was  the  recognized  queen  of  a  wide 
realm. 

As  I  look  back  upon  her  life,  I  find  but  little  to  blame 
her  for.  Wherever  her  errors  have  been  productive  of 
mischief,  they  have  been  errors  of  ignorance — mistakes 
— possibly  excusable  in  the  circumstances  under  which 
they  were  committed.  She  loved  her  children  with  all 
the  tenderness  and  devotion  of  a  good  mother,  but,  in 
her  anxiety  that  they  should  not  cross  their  father's  will, 
and  provoke  his  displeasure,  she  became  but  little  better 
than  an  irksome  overseer  to  them.  She  knew  that  if 
there  was  anything  that  her  husband  insisted  on,  it  was 
parental  authority.  She  knew  that  the  strict  ordering 
of  his  family  was  his  pet  idea,  and  that  his  family 
government,  in  the  fullest  meaning  and  force  of  the 
phrase,  was  his  hobby.  This  pet  idea— this  hobby — 
she  made  room  for  in  her  family  plans.  She  knew  that 
he  was  often  unreasonable,  but  that  made  no  difference. 
She  knew  that  his  will  ran  strongest  in  that  direction, 
and  she  made  it  her  business  to  see  that  as  few  obsta- 
cles lay  in  his  path  as  possible.  On  one  side  stood  the 
deacon's  inexorable  laws  and  rules  and  will,  by  which 
his  children,  of  every  age,  were  to  square  their  conduct. 
On  the  other  stood  her  precious  children,  with  all  the 
wilfulness  and  waywardness  of  children — with  all  their 
longing  for  parental   tenderness   and   indulgence — with 


Mrs.  Martha  Jones.  ly 

moods  which  they  had  never  learned  to  manage,  and 
tempers  which  they  did  not  know  the  meaning  of ;  and 
she  became  supremely  anxious  that  the  deacon  should 
not  be  provoked  by  them  to  wrath,  and  that  they  should 
escape  the  consequences  of  his  displeasure. 

Well,  what  was  the  consequence?  This  ceaseless 
vigilance  which  she  had  learned  to  exercise  over  every 
portion  of  the  household  economy,  she  extended  to  the 
bearing  and  conduct  of  her  children.  She  exercised 
over  them  the  strictest  surveillance.  She  carried  in  her 
mind  and  in  her  manners  the  dread  of  a  collision  between 
them  and  their  despotic  governor.  She  tried  to  save 
him  from  irritation  and  them  from  its  consequences.  She 
kept  one  eye  on  him  and  another  on  them,  and  nothing 
in  the  conduct  of  either  party  escaped  her.  Her  chil- 
dren, as  they  emerged  from  babyhood,  grew  gradually 
into  the  consciousness  that  they  were  watched,  and  that 
not  a  word  could  be  uttered,  or  a  hand  lifted,  or  a  foot 
moved,  without  a  degree  of  notice  which  curtailed  its 
liberty.  It  was  repression — repression — nothing  but  re- 
pression— everywhere,  for  them.  No  hearty  laugh,  or 
overflowing,  childish  glee,  or  noisy  play  for  them,  for 
fear  that  the  deacon  might  be  disturbed ! 

At  last,  every  child  she  had,  in  addition  to  the  fear  of 
its  father,  came  to  entertain  a  dread  of  its  mother.  I 
think  her  children  loved  her,  or  would  have  loved  her, 
had  they  not  associated  her  forever  with  restraint.  If 
they  played,  she  was  near  with  her  everlasting  "  hush !  " 


i8  Concerning  the  Jones  Fainily. 

If  they  sat  down  at  table,  they  knew  that  her  eye  was 
upon  them— that  she  watched  the  position  of  every  head 
under  the  deacon's  long  "grace" — the  passage  of  every 
mouthful — the  manner  in  which  they  asked  every  ques- 
tion and  responded  to  what  was  said  to  them — the 
amount  of  food  and  drink  consumed-^everything.  They 
felt  themselves  wrapped  up  in — devoured  by — a  vigilant 
supervision  that  took  from  them  their  liberty  and  their 
will,  and  with  them,  ail  feelings  of  self-respect  and  self- 
possession. 

It  is  not  the  opinion  of  her  neighbors  that  either  she 
or  her  husband  has  had  anything  to  do  with  the  ruin  of 
their  children.  The  deacon  was  so  strict  and  so  efficient 
in  his  family  government,  and  she  was  so  scrupulously 
careful  in  everything  that  related  to  their  manners  at 
home  and  away,  that  they  did  not  imagine  it  possible 
that  any  bad  result  could  naturally  flow  from  such  train- 
ing. I  do  not  say  that  they  are  mistaken  from  any  wish 
to  blame  her,  but  I  must  speak  the  truth  about  her. 
Her  minute  watchfulness  and  censorship  exercised  over 
these  children  until  she  became  to  them  God,  con- 
science, and  will,  were  just  as  fatal  to  a  manly  and  wo- 
manly development  as  the  deacon's  irresponsible  com- 
mands. A  boy  that  feels  that  every  word  of  his  mouth 
and  every  movement  of  his  body  is  watched  by  one 
whose  eye  never  sleeps,  and  whose  hand  is  ever  ready 
to  repress,  becomes  at  last  a  coward  or  a  bully.  There 
are  natures  which  will  not  submit  to  this  surveillance  j 


Mrs,  Martha  Jones.  19 

and  when  these  becorne  weary  of  the  pressure,  they 
kick  it  aside,  and  parental  restraint — associated  with  all 
that  is  hateful  in  slavery — is  gone  forever. 

Under  the  peculiar  training  and  home  influences  to 
which  her  children  were  subjected,  there  were  but  two 
things  that  they  were  likely  to  become,  viz.:  rebels  or 
cravens.  Her  children  were  naturally  high-spirited,  like 
the  deacon  and  herself,  and  they  became  rebels.  Other- 
wise, they  would  have  carried  with  them  through  life  the 
feeling  that  whatever  show  they  might  put  on — however 
much  they  might  struggle  against  it — they  were  under- 
lings. There  are  some  men  and  some  women,  probably, 
who,  living  through  a  long  life  under  favorable  circum- 
stances, recover  from  this  early  discipline  of  repression, 
and  this  abject  slavery  of  the  will,  but  they  are  few. 
They  must  be  few.  The  negro  who  has  once  been  a 
slave  cannot,  one  time  in  a  hundred,  refuse  to  take  off 
his  hat,  or  bow,  to  a  white  man.  He  is  never  at  home, 
when  placed  on  an  equality  with  him.  He  carries  in  hig 
soul  the  badge  of  servility,  and  he  can  no  more  thrust  it 
from  his  sight  or  banish  it  from  his  consciousness  than 
he  can  change  the  color  of  his  skin.  This  is  not  because 
he  is  a  negro,  simply,  but  because  he  has  been  a  slave — 
because  he  has  been  trained  up  to  have  no  will,  and  to 
be  controlled  under  all  circumstances  by  the  wills  of 
those  who  had  him  in  their  power. 

A  child  can  be  made  the  slave  of  a  parent  just  as  thor- 
oughly as  a  negro  ever  was  made  the  slave  pf  a  white  man, 


20  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

and  such  a  child  can  be  just  as  everlastingly  damaged 
by  parental  or  family  slavery  as  a  bondsman  can  be  by 
any  system  of  bondage.  A  child  can  be  made  as  mean, 
and  cowardly,  and  deceitful,  and  devoid  of  self-respect, 
by  a  system  of  management  which  puts  a  curb  upon 
every  action,  as  the  devil  himself  could  possibly  desire. 
This  system  of  watchful  repression,  and  minute  supervi- 
sion, and  criticism  of  every  action,  among  children,  is  ut- 
terly debilitating  and  demoralizing.  Mrs.  Jones  intended 
no  harm  by  it.  Under  the  circumstances,  it  was  a  very 
natural  thing  for  her  to  do  ]  but  I  think  she  can  hardly 
fail  to  see  that,  unwittingly,  she  perfected  the  work 
of  destruction  in  her  children  which  the  deacon  so 
thoroughly  began,  and  for  which  he  would  have  been, 
without  her  assistance,  entirely  sufficient.  Oh !  when 
will  the  world  learn  that  children  are  neither  animals 
nor  slaves  ?  When  will  the  world  learn  that  children — 
the  purest,  sweetest,  noblest,  truest,  most  sagacious 
creatures  in  the  world — with  a  natural  charter  of  liberty 
as  broad  as  that  enjoyed  by  the  angels — should  be 
treated  with  respect?  When  shall  this  idea  that  all 
legitimate  training  relates  to  the  use  of  liberty — to  the 
acquisition  of  the  power  of  self-government — become 
the  universal  basis  of  family  policy  ? 

What  do  I  mean  by  this  ?  Well,  I  will  try  to  explain, 
or  illustrate,  my  meaning.  I  remember  a  gathering  at 
the  house  of  Mrs.  Jones — a  party  of  friends — to  which 
her  children  were  admitted  ;  and  I  remember  with  pain- 


Mrs.  Martha  Jones.  21 

ful  distinctness  the  telegraphic  communication  which 
she  maintained  with  them  during  the  whole  evening.  If 
James  got  his  legs  crossed,  or,  in  his  drowsiness,  gaped, 
or  if  he  coughed,  or  sneezed,  or  laughed  above  a  certain 
key,  or  made  a  remark,  or  moved  his  chair,  it  was  : 
"  James,  h — m  !  " — "  James,  h — m  !  " — "James,  h — m  !  " 
And  James  was  only  one  of  half  a  dozen  whom  she 
treated  in  the  same  way.  She  began  the  evening  with 
the  feeling  that  she  was  entirely  responsible  for  the  be- 
havior of  those  children — just  as  much  responsible  as  if 
they,  severally,  were  the  fingers  of  her  hand.  She 
acted  as  if  they  were  machines  which,  for  the  evening, 
she  had  undertaken  to  operate.  They  felt  that  they 
were  under  the  eye  of  a  vigilant  keeper,  and  they  did 
not  dream  of  such  a  thing  as  acting  for  themselves. 
They  were  acting  for  her,  and  they  did  not  know  until 
they  heard  her  suggestive  "  h — m  !  "  whether  they  were 
right  or  wrong.  She  undertook  for  the  evening  to  be  to 
them  in  the  stead  of  their  sense  of  propriety ;  and  the 
communication  between  them  and  her  being  imperfect, 
they  often  offended.  I  know  that  her  good  sense  will 
tell  her  now  that  this  is  not  the  way  gentlemen  and 
ladies  are  made. 

I  was  recently  in  a  family  circle  where  I  witnessed  a 
most  delightful  contrast  to  all  this — where  the  sons  and 
daughters  were  brought  up  and  introduced  to  me  by  the 
father  and  mother  with  as  much  politeness  and  cordiality 
as  if  they  were  kings  and  queens  every  one,  and  with  as 


22  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

much  freedom  as  if  the  parents  had  not  the  shghtest 
doubt  that  the  children — from  the  oldest  to  the  youngest 
— would  bear  themselves  like  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
There  was  no  forwardness  on  the  part  of  these  children, 
as  may  possibly  be  supposed  ;  yet  there  was  perfect  self- 
possession  ;  and  each  child  knew  that  he  stood  upon  his 
own  merits.  I  suppose  that  if  any  one  of  these  children 
had  indulged  in  any  impropriety  during  this  interview — 
as  not  one  of  them  did — he  would  have  been  kindly  told 
afterward,  by  one  of  the  parents,  what  he  had  done,  and 
why  he  should  never  repeat  it.  The  children  of  Mrs. 
Jones  were  always  awkward  in  company,  and  for  the 
simple  reason  that  they  did  not  know  whether  they  were 
pleasing  her  or  not.  They  had  no  freedom,  and  were 
guided  by  no  principle.  Her  will  was  their  rule,  and 
her  will,  so  far  as  it  related  to  all  the  minutiae  of  beha- 
vior, was  not  thoroughly  known  ;  so  they  were  always 
embarrassed,  and  always  turning  their  eyes  toward  her, 
Her  entire  system  of  management  was  based  on  distrust, 
while  that  of  the  family  with  whom  I  contrast  hers  was 
founded  on  trust.  Her  children,  while  she  could  possi- 
bly keep  her  hold  upon  them,  were  never  permitted  to 
outgrow  their  petticoats,  while  those  of  the  other  family 
alluded  to  were  put  upon  their  own  responsibility  just  as 
soon  as  possible.  Is  there  any  doubt  as  to  which  system 
of  treatment  is  best  ? 

Perhaps,  among  those  who  read  this  essay,  there  may 
be  those  who  think  that  parental  authority  cannot  bo 


Mrs.  Martha  Jones.  23 

maintained  without  its  constant  and  direct  assertion. 
If  so,  let  them  be  sure  that  they  are  mistaken.  I  have 
known  families  that  possessed  fathers  and  mothers  who 
were  honored,  admired,  loved,  almost  worshipped — 
fathers  and  mothers  whose  children  dreaded  nothing  so 
much  as  to  give  them  pain — yet  these  same  children 
knew  no  such  word  as  fear,  and  would  have  been  utterly 
ashamed  to  render  the  assertion  of  parental  authority 
necessary.  Parents  and  children  were  friends  and  com- 
panions— the  children  deferring  to  the  opinions  and 
wishes  of  the  parents,  and  the  parents  consulting  the 
happiness  and  trusting  the  good  sense  and  good  inten- 
tions of  the  children.  Whenever  I  hear  a  young  man 
calling  his  father  '*  the  old  man,"  and  his  mother  "  the 
old  woman,"  I  know  that  the  old  man  and  the  old 
woman  are  to  blame  for  it. 

If  the  children  of  Mrs.  Jones  had  turned  out  well,  it 
must  have  been  in  spite  of  a  system  of  training  which 
was  so  far  from  being  education  as  to  be  its  opposite. 
There  was  no  inner  life  organized  ;  there  was  no  build- 
ing up  of  character ;  there  was  no  establishment  in  each 
child's  heart  of  a  bar  of  judgment — no  exercise  in  the 
use  of  liberty ;  but  only  restraint,  only  fear,  only  slav- 
ery. 

I  do  not  entertain  those  opinions  of  one  variety  of  dis- 
orderly families  which  Mrs.  Jones  and  the  deacon  seem 
to  have  entertained  all  their  lives.  I  have  never  yet 
seen  the  house  where  children  were  happy  that  did  not 


24  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

show  evidences  of  disorder ;  and  a  man  is  a  fool,  or 
something  worse,  who  quarrels  with  this  state  of  things. 
Where  children  have  playthings,  and  where  they  play 
with  them,  there  must  necessarily  be  disorder,  and  fur- 
niture more  or  less  disturbed  and  defaced,  and  noise 
more  or  less  disagreeable,  and  litter  that  is  not  highly 
ornamental.  And  before  children  have  had  an  opportu- 
nity to  learn  propriety  of  speech  and  deportment — be- 
fore they  are  educated — there  will  be  in  their  conduct, 
in  play-room  and  parlor  alike,  more  or  less  of  irregular- 
ity and  extravagance.  Remarks  will  be  made  that  will 
shock  all  hearers;  sudden  explosions  of  anger  will  oc- 
cur, with  other  eccentricities  of  conduct  that  need  not 
be  named.  There  are  remedies  for  all  these — in  time. 
When,  in  the  course  of  their  education,  the  sense  of 
propriety  is  stimulated  and  strengthened,  and  pride  of 
character  is  developed,  these  irregularities  will  disap- 
pear and  an  orderly  family  will  be  the  consequence, 
each  child  having  become  its  own  reformer. 

There  was  a  feature  of  Mrs.  Jones'  family  government 
(which  she  held  in  common  with  her  husband)  that 
made  still  more  complete  the  slavery  of  her  children. 
It  was  the  deacon's  opinion  that  a  boy  who  was  not  too 
tired  to  play  at  ball,  or  slide  down  hill,  or  skate,  was 
not  too  tired  to  saw  wood,  and  it  was  his  policy  to  direct 
all  the  excess  of  animal  life  which  his  boys  manifested 
into  the  channels  of  industry  and  usefulness.  She  sec- 
onded this  opinion,  and  maintained  that  a  girl  who  was 


Mrs.  Martha  Jones.  2$ 

not  too  sleepy  to  make  a  doll's  hat,  or  a  doll's  dress, 
was  not  too  sleepy  to  hem  a  handkerchief,  or  darn  a 
stocking.  So  her  children  never  had  what  children  call 
"  a  good  time."  Always  kept  at  work  when  possible, 
and  always  restrained  in  every  exhibition  of  the  spirit 
of  play,  home  became  an  irksome  place  to  them,  and 
childhood  a  dreary  period.  Her  children  were  never 
permitted  to  do  anything  to  please  themselves,  in  their 
own  way.  Everything  was  done — or  she  insisted  that 
everything  should  be  done— to  please  her,  in  her  way. 
If  one  of  her  daughters  sat  down  to  rest,  or  resorted  to  a 
little  quiet  amusement,  she  stirred  her  at  once  by  some 
petty  command.  I  was  often  tempted  to  be  angry  with 
her,  because  she  would  never  give  her  children  any 
peace.  She  had  always  something  for  them  to  do,  and 
something  that  had  to  be  done  just  at  the  very  time 
when  they  were  enjoying  themselves  the  best. 

"  Precept  upon  precept"  is  very  well,  in  its  way,  but 
principle  is  much  better.  The  principle  of  right  and 
proper  acting,  fully  inculcated,  renders  unnecessary  all 
precepts  ;  and  until  a  child  has  fully  received  this  prin- 
ciple he  is  without  the  basis  of  manhood.  The  earlier 
this  principle  is  received,  and  a  child  thrown  upon  his 
own  responsibility,  and  made  to  feel  that  he  is  a  man, 
lacking  only  years  to  give  him  strength  and  wisdom,  the 
safer  that  boy  is  for  time  and  for  eternity.  The  mo- 
ment a  boy  becomes  morally  responsible,  he  becomes 
in  a  most  important  sense — a  sense  which  she  and  the 

2 


26  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

deacon  never  recognized — free.  I  do  not  say  that  he  is 
removed  from  parental  control  or  rational  restraint,  but 
that  it  is  the  business  of  the  parent  to  educate  him  in 
the  principle  of  self-government.  A  boy  bred  thus,  be- 
comes ten  times  more  a  man  than  a  boy  bred  in  a  way 
which  has  seemed  best  to  Mrs.  Jones  ;  and  when  he 
goes  forth  from  the  parental  roof  he  goes  forth  strong, 
and  able  to  battle  with  life's  trials  and  temptations. 
Children  long  for  recognition — to  do  things  for  them- 
selves, to  be  their  own  masters  and  mistresses.  Their 
play  is  all  based  on  the  assumption  that  they  are  men 
and  women,  as,  in  miniature,  they  are  ;  and,  insisting 
on  the  right  use  of  liberty  and  teaching  them  how  to  use 
it,  they  should  have  it  restrained  only  when  that  liberty 
is  abused. 


F.  MENDELSSOHN  JONES, 

SINGING-MASTER. 

CONCERNINP    THE    INFLUENCE     OF  HIS    PROFES- 
SION ON  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 

I  ONCE  heard  the  most  renowned  and  venerable  of 
all  the  professors  of  music  in  this  country  say  that 
he  always  warned  his  classes  of  young  women  to  beware 
of  singing  men,  and,  with  equal  emphasis,  warned  his 
classes  of  young  men  to  beware  of  singing  women.  He 
alluded,  of  course,  to  professional  singers,  and  I  have 
too  much  respect  for  his  Christian  character  to  suppose 
that  he  was  not  thoroughly  in  earnest.  The  statement 
will  not  flatter  the  self-conceit  of  singing  men  and 
women,  but  it  brought  to  my  mind,  immediately,  the 
history  of  Mr.  F.  Mendelssohn  Jones,  the  singing-mas- 
ter. He  was  what  people  call  a  bright  boy.  He  was, 
indeed,  what  I  should  call  a  clever  boy.  He  was  quick, 
ingenious,  graceful,  skilful ;  and  his  father  and  mother 
told  me,  with  evident  pride,  and  in  his  presence,  that  he 
had  a  remarkable  talent  for  music.  **  Felix  Mendelssohn 
could  sing,"  they  said,  "and  carry  his  own  part  before 


28  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

he  was  three  years  old."  And  Felix  Mendelssohn  was 
brought  out  on  all  possible  occasions,  to  display  his 
really  respectable  gifts  as  a  singer,  and  was  brought  out 
so  often,  and  was  so  much  praised  and  flattered,  that, 
before  he  was  old  enough  to  know  much  about  anything, 
he  had  conceived  the  idea  that  singing  was  the  largest 
thing  to  be  done  in  the  world,  and  that  Felix  Mendels- 
sohn Jones  had  a  very  large  way  of  doing  it. 

Twenty  years  have  passed  away,  and  where  is  he 
now  ?  He  is  a  singing-master,  with  a  limited  income 
and  a  reputation  rather  the  worse  for  wear.  He  has 
never  been  convicted  of  any  flagrant  acts  of  immorality, 
but  men  and  women  have  ticketed  him  "  doubtful." 
Judicious  fathers  and  mothers  are  careful  not  to  leave 
their  daughters  in  his  company.  Ladies  who  prize  a 
good  name  above  all  other  possessions,  do  not  permit 
themselves  to  be  found  alone  with  him.  There  are 
stories  floating  about  concerning  his  intrigues,  and  the 
jealousy  and  unhappiness  of  his  wife.  Everybody  says 
that  he  is  an  excellent  singer ;  that  he  understands  his 
business,  etc.  ;  but  all  add  that  he  knows  nothing 
about  anything  else ;  that  they  would  not  trust  him  the 
length  of  their  arm  ;  that  he  is  a  hypocrite  and  a  scape- 
grace ;  that  he  ought  to  be  horsewhipped  and  hissed  out 
of  decent  society  ;  that  it  is  strange  that  any  respectable 
man  will  have  him  in  his  family ;  and  a  great  many  other 
ugly  things  which  need  not  be  related.  I  am  aware  that 
he  has  warm  friends  ;  but  not  one  among  the  men,  unless 


F.  Mendelssohn  jfories.  29 

it  may  be  some  poor  fellow  whose  wife's  name  has  been 
coupled  with  his  in  an  uncomfortable  way.  Wherever 
he  goes,  there  are  always  two  or  three  women  who  be- 
come his  sworn  partisans — women  who  have  his  name 
constantly  on  their  lips ;  who  will  not  peaceably  or 
without  protest  hear  his  immaculateness  called  in 
question — women  who,  somehow,  seem  to  have  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  establishing  the  uncompromising  rigid- 
ity of  his  virtue.  I  do  not  think  very  highly  of  these 
women. 

Felix  is  a  handsome  man,  and  how  well  he  knows  it ! 
He  is  a  '*  dressy"  man.  There  is  no  better  broadcloth 
than  he  wears,  and  no  better  tailor  than  he  employs. 
He  is  as  vain  as  a  peacock,  and  selfish  beyond  all  calcu- 
lation. A  stranger,  meeting  him  in  a  railroad-car,  or  at 
a  hotel,  would  not  guess  the  manner  in  which  he  gets 
his  money,  and  least  of  all  would  he  guess  that  in  his 
home,  where  he  is  a  contemptible  tyrant,  his  wife  sits 
meanly  clad,  and  his  children  eat  the  bread  of  poverty. 

I  have  asked  myself  many  times  why  it  is  that  he  and 
a  large  class  of  singing  men  and  singing  women  are  thus 
among  the  most  worthless  of  all  human  beings.  One 
would  suppose,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  that  he  and 
they  would  be  among  the  purest  and  noblest  men  and 
women  in  the  world.  Music  is  a  creature  of  the  skies. 
It  was  on  the  wings  of  music  that  the  heaven -born  song 
— **  Peace  on  earth !  good-will  to  men  " — came  down, 
and  thrilled  Judea  with  sounds  that  have  since  swept 


30  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

around  the  world.  It  is  on  the  breath  of  music  that  our 
praises  rise  to  Him,  whose  life  itself,  as  expressed  in  the 
movements  of  systems  and  the  phenomena  of  vitality,  is 
the  perfection  of  rhythmical  harmony.  It  is  music  that 
lulls  the  fretful  infant  to  sleep  upon  its  mother's  bosom  ; 
that  gives  expression  to  the  free  spirit  of  boyhood  when 
it  rejoices  upon  the  hills  ;  that  relieves  the  tedium  of 
labor ;  that  clothes  the  phrases  by  which  men  woo  the 
women  whom  they  love  ;  and  that  makes  a  flowery 
channel  through  which  grief  may  pour  its  plaint.  It 
stirs  the  martial  host  to  do  battle  in  the  cause  of  God 
and  freedom,  and  celebrates  the  victory;  and  "with 
songs"  as  well  as  with  "  everlasting  joy,"  we  are  told, 
the  redeemed  shall  enter  upon  their  reward  at  last. 
Why,  one  would  suppose  that  no  man  could  live  and 
move  and  have  his  being  in  music,  without  being  subli- 
mated, etherealized,  spiritualized  by  it — kept  up  in  a 
seventh  heaven  of  purity  and  refinement. 

This  may  all  be  said  of  music  in  general,  but  to  me 
there  seems  to  be  something  peculiarly  sacred  in  the 
human  voice.  There  is  that  in  the  voice  which  tran- 
scends all  the  instruments  of  man's  invention.  It  is 
one  of  God's  instruments,  and  cannot  be  surpassed  or 
equalled.  It  is  the  natural  outlet  of  human  passion  ; 
the  opening  through  vv^hich — in  love  and  hate,  in  grief 
and  gladness,  in  desire  and  satisfaction — the  soul 
breathes.  It  pulsates  and  trembles  with  that  spiritual 
life  and  motion  which  are  born  of  God's  presence  in  the 


F.  Mendelssohn  Jones.  31 

soul.  It  is  not  only  the  expression  of  all  that  is  human 
in  us,  but  of  all  that  is  divine. 

One  would  suppose,  I  repeat,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  that  all  professional  singing  men  and  singing 
women  would  be  among  the  purest  and  noblest  and  best 
men  and  women  in  the  world;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
Felix  Mendelssohn  Jones  is  the  mean  and  miserable 
profligate  I  have  already  charged  him  with  being,  and 
many  of  his  associates  are  like  him.  In  saying  this,  I 
do  not  mean  to  wound  the  sensibilities  of  some  singing 
men  and  women  who  do  not  belong  to  his  set.  I  know 
truly  Christian  men  and  women  who  have  devoted  their 
lives  to  music,  but  they  are  in  no  danger  of  being  con- 
founded with  the  crowd  and  class  I  have  condemned. 
They  despise  that  class  as  much  as  I  do,  and  regret,  as 
much  as  I  do,  the  facts  which  have  associated  music 
with  so  much  that  is  mean  and  unworthy  in  character 
and  conduct. 

It  is  interesting  to  study  into  the  causes  of  this  wide- 
spread immorality  and  worthlessness  among  those  who 
make  singing  the  business  of  their  lives.  In  the  case  of 
Felix,  and  in  many  others,  personal  vanity  has  had 
more  to  do  than  anything  else.  He  was  bred  from  the 
cradle  to  a  love  of  praise  His  gift  for  music  was  mani- 
fested early,  and  his  parents  undertook  to  exhibit  him 
and  secure  praise  for  him  throughout  all  the  years  of  his 
boyhood.  He  grew  up  with  a  constant  greed  for  admi- 
ration, and  this  grew  at  last  into  a  passion,  which  has 


32  Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

never  relinquished  its  hold  upon  him.  He  became  vain 
of  his  accomplishment,  and  vain  of  his  personal  beauty, 
and  vain  of  his  whole  personality.  He  has  been  singing 
in  church  all  his  life,  and  giving  voice  to  the  aspirations 
and  praises  of  others,  but,  probably,  there  has  never,  in 
all  that  time,  gone  up  from  his  heart  a  single  offering  to 
Him  who  bestowed  upon  him  his  excellent  gift.  He 
has,  during  all  his  life,  on  all  occasions,  sung  to  men, 
not  to  God.  As  his  voice  has  swelled  out  over  choir 
and  congregation,  he  has  been  only  thoughtful  of  the 
admiration  he  was  exciting  in  the  minds  of  those  who 
were  listening,  and  has  always  been  rather  seeking 
praise  for  himself  than  giving  praise  to  his  Maker. 

This  love  of  admiration  and  praise  has  been,  then, 
the  mainspring  of  his  life ;  and  no  man  or  woman  can 
be  decent  with  no  higher  motive  of  life  than  this. 
With  this  motive  predominant,  he  has  grown  superla- 
tively selfish.  He  refuses  to  share  his  earnings  with  his 
wife  and  children,  because  such  a  policy  would  detract 
from  his  personal  charms,  or  his  personal  comforts.  He 
quarrels  with  every  man  of  his  profession,  because  he  is 
afraid  that  the  man  will  detract  somewhat  from  the 
glory  which  he  imagines  has  settled  around  him.  His 
mouth  is  constantly  filled  with  detraction  of  his  rivals. 
In  the  practice  of  his  profession,  he  is  thrown  into  con- 
-tact  with  soft  and  sympathetic  women,  who  are  charmed 
by  his  voice,  and  his  face,  and  his  style,  and  his  villa' 
nously  smooth  and  sanctimonious  manners,  and  they  be* 


F.  Mendelssohn  Jones.  33 

come  easy  victims  to  his  desire  for  personal  conquest. 
Thus  his  music  becomes  to  him  only  an  instrument  for 
the  gratification  of  his  greed  for  admiration,  and,  among 
other  things,  a  means  for  winning  personal  power  over 
the  weak  and  wayward  women  whom  he  encounters. 

Life  always  takes  on  the  character  of  its  motive.  It 
is  not  the  music  which  has  injured  him  :  it  is  not  the 
music  which  injures  any  one  of  the  great  brotherhood 
and  sisterhood  of  vicious  genius.  There  are  those 
among  musicians  who  can  plead  the  power  of  great 
passions  as  their  apology  for  great  vices.  No  great 
musician  is  possible  without  great  passions.  No  man 
without  intense  human  sympathies  in  all  directions  can 
ever  be  a  great  singer,  or  a  great  musician  of  any  kind  ; 
and  these  sympathies,  in  a  life  subject  to  great  exalta- 
tions and  depressions,  lead  their  possessor  only  too 
often  into  vices  that  degrade  him  and  his  art.  But 
Felix  is  not  a  great  musician,  and  I  doubt  very  much 
whether  he  has  great  passions.  I  think  he  is  a  diddler 
and  a  make-believe.  I  think  his  vices  are  affectations, 
in  a  considerable  degree,  and  that  he  indulges  in  them 
only  so  far  as  he  imagines  they  will  make  him  inter- 
esting. 

There  is  something  very  demoralizing  in  all  pursuits 
that  depend  for  their  success  upon  the  popular  ap- 
plause. We  see  it  no  more  in  public  singing  than  in 
acting,  and  no  more  in  acting  than  in  politics.  I  doubt 
whether  there  are  more  singers  than  politicians  ruined 
2* 


34  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

by  their  pursuits.  A  man  who  makes  it  the  business  of 
his  Ufe  to  seek  office  at  the  liands  of  the  people,  and 
who  administers  the  affairs  of  office  so  as  to  secure  the 
popular  applause,  becomes  morally  as  rotten  as  the  rot- 
tenest  of  the  musical  profession. 

I  never  hear  of  an  American  girl  going  abroad  to 
study  music,  for  the  purpose  of  fitting  herself  for  a  pub- 
lic musical  career,  without  a  pang.  A  musical  educa- 
tion, an  introduction  to  public  musical  life,  and  a  few 
years  of  that  life,  are  almost  certain  ruin  for  any  wo- 
man. Some  escape  this  ruin,  it  is  true,  but  there  are 
temptations  laid  for  every  step  of  their  life.  They  find 
their  success  in  the  hands  of  men  who  demand  more 
than  money  for  wages.  They  find  their  personal  charms 
set  over  against  the  personal  charms  of  others.  Their 
whole  life  is  filled  with  rivalries  and  jealousies.  They 
find  themselves  constantly  thrown  into  intimate  associa- 
tions on  the  stage  with  men  who  subject  themselves  to 
no  Christian  restraint — who  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 
a  Christian  education.  They  are  constantly  acting  in 
operas,  the  whole  dramatic  relish  of  which  is  found  in 
equivocal  situations,  or  openly  licentious  revelations. 
In  such  circumstances  as  these,  a  woman  must  be  a 
marvel  of  modesty  and  a  miracle  of  grace  to  escape 
contamination.  I  do  not  believe  there  is  a  woman  in 
the  world  who  ever  came  out  of  a  public  musical  career 
as  good  a  woman  as  she  entered  it.  She  may  have  es- 
caped with  an  untarnished  name — she  may  have  pre- 


F.  Mendelssohn  Jones.  35 

served  her  standing  in  society,  or  even  heightened  it, 
but  in  her  inmost  soul  she  knows  that  the  pure  spirit  of 
her  girlhood  is  gone. 

It  is  the  dream,  I  suppose,  of  most  women  who  under- 
take a  musical  career  that  after  winning  money  and 
fame,  they  shall  settle  down  into  domestic  life  grace- 
fully, and  be  happy  in  retirement.  Alas  !  this  is  one 
of  the  dreams  that  very  rarely  "  come  true."  The  greed 
for  popular  applause,  once  tasted,  knows  no  relenting. 
The  public  life  of  women  unfits  them  for  domestic  life, 
and  the  contaminations  of  a  public  singing  woman's  po- 
sition render  it  almost  impossible  for  her  to  be  married 
out  of  her  circle  ;  so  that  a  woman  who  spends  ten  years 
on  the  stage  usually  spends  her  life  there,  or  does  worse- 
I  do  not  wonder  at  the  old  professor's  warning  against 
singing  women,  or  singing  men.  It  is  enough  to  break 
down  any  man's  or  woman's  self-respect  to  depend  for 
bread  and  reputation  upon  the  applause  of  a  capricious 
public — to  devote  the  whole  energies  of  one's  being  to 
the  winning  of  a  few  clappings  of  the  hand  and  a  few 
tossings  of  the  handkerchief,  and  to  feel  that  bread,  and 
success  of  the  life-purpose  depend  upon  these  few  clap- 
pings and  tossings. 

I  have  a  theory  that  it  is  demoralizing  to  pursue  as  a 
business  any  graceful  accomplishment  which  is  only  in- 
tended to  administer  to  the  pleasure  and  recreation  of 
toiling  men  and  women.  I  have  not  read  history  cor- 
rectly if  it  be  not  true  that  the  artists  of  all  ages  have 


36  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

been  generally  men  of  many  vices.  There  have  been 
men  of  pure  character  among  them  always,  but,  as  a 
class,  they  have  not  been  men  whom  we  should  select 
for  Sunday-school  superintendents,  or  as  husbands  for 
our  daughters.  If  Felix  Mendelssohn  Jones  had  been  a 
tailor,  and  had  worked  hard  at  his  business  and  only 
used  his  talent  for  music  in  the  social  circle  and  the  vil- 
lage choir  on  Sunday,  and  been  just  as  vain  as  he  is  to- 
day, he  would  have  been  a  better  man  than  he  is  now,  I 
think.  I  think  this  devotion  of  his  life  to  music  has  had 
the  tendency,  independently  of  all  other  influences,  to 
make  him  intellectually  an  ass  and  morally  a  goat 

Whether  there  is  soundness  in  this  theory  or  not, 
singing  as  a  pursuit  must  come  under  the  general  law 
which  makes  devotion  to  one  idea  a  dwarfing  process. 
A  man  who  gives  his  life  to  music  and  becomes  absorbed 
by  it — and  who  really  knows  nothing  else,  will  necessa- 
rily be  a  very  small  pattern  of  a  man.  The  artist  is  de- 
veloped at  the  expense  of  the  man.  Music  is  thrown 
entirely  out  of  its  legitimate  and  healthy  relations  to  his 
life,  and  he  makes  that  an  object,  or  end  of  life  which 
should  only  minister  to  an  end  far  higher.  When  a  man 
undertakes  to  clothe  his  manhood  from  materials  fur- 
nished by  a  single  pursuit,  even  when  that  pursuit  is  so 
pure  and  beautiful  as  that  of  music,  he  runs  short  of 
cloth  at  once.  I  have  no  doubt  that  one  of  the  principal 
reasons  why  music  has  such  a  dwarfing  effect  upon  a 
multitude  of  those  who  make  it  the  pursuit  of  their  lives, 


F.  Mendelssohn  Jones.  '    37 

is,  that  it  is  so  fascinating  and  so  absorbing — that  it 
possesses  such  a  power  to  drive  out  from  the  mind  and 
life  everything  else.  There  is  no  denying  the  fact  that, 
in  the  eye  of  a  practical  business  man,  musical  accom- 
plishments in  men  are  regarded  as  a  damage  to  charac- 
ter and  a  hinderance  to  success.  It  is  pretty  nearly  the 
universal  belief  that  a  man  who  is  very  much  devoted  to 
music  is  rarely  good  for  anything  else.  This  may  not  be 
true — I  doubt  whether  it  is  strictly  true — but  it  is  true 
enough,  and  it  has  always  been  true  enough  to  make  it  a 
rule  among  those  who  have  no  time  for  nice  distinctions 
and  exceptional  cases. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  Felix  Mendelssohn  Jones  is  in- 
tellectually a  dwarf.  I  do  not  wonder  that  men  who 
have  nerve  and  muscle  and  common  sense,  and  prac- 
tical acquaintance  with  the  great  concerns  of  life,  and  a 
share  in  the  world's  earnest  work,  should  hold  him  in 
contempt  for  other  reasons  than  those  which  relate  to 
his  morals.  What  did  he  ever  study  besides  music  ? 
Upon  what  subject  of  human  interest  is  he  informed 
except  music  ?  Upon  what  topic  of  conversation  is 
he  at  all  at  home  unless  it  be  music  ?  Why  is  it 
that  he  has  nothing  to  say  when  those  questions  are 
discussed  which  relate  to  the  political,  moral,  social, 
and  industrial  life  of  the  race  or  nation  to  which  he 
belongs  ?  No  man  has  a  right  to  be  more  a  musi- 
cian than  a  man,  and  no  musician  has  the  right  to  com- 
plain when  men  who  are  men  hold  him  in  contempt  be- 


38  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

cause  he  is  the  slave  of  an  art  of  which  he  should  rather 
be  the  kingly  possessor.  There  is  a  vast  deal  of  non- 
sense afloat  in  the  world  about  being  married  to  music, 
or  married  to  art,  as  if  music  were  a  woman  of  a  very 
seductive  and  exacting  character,  and  musicians  were 
very  gallant  and  knightly  people  who  make  it  their  busi- 
ness to  bend  before  a  lifted  eyebrow,  and  follow  the 
fickle  swing  of  petticoats  to  death  and  the  worst  that 
follows  it. 

There  is  another  cause  that  has  operated  to  make  him 
much  less  a  man  than  he  might  have  been  under  other 
circumstances,  and  this  is  almost  inseparable  from  his 
life  as  a  public  singer.  His  life  has  been  a  vagabond 
life.  He,  in  his  humble  way,  passing  from  village  to  vil- 
lage, has  only  had  a  taste  of  that  dissipation  of  travel 
which  the  more  famous  members  of  his  profession  are 
obliged  to  suflfer.  From  the  time  a  public  singer  begins 
his  career  until  he  closes  it,  he  has  no  home.  He  is 
never  recognized  as  a  member  of  society.  He  is  obliged 
to  be  all  things  to  all  men  everywhere.  He  has  no  na- 
tionality. He  shouts  for  the  stars  and  stripes  in  New 
York,  but  would  just  as  easily  shout  for  the  stars  and 
bars  wherever  they  float.  He  is  equally  at  home  in 
England  and  France  and  Italy,  and  salutes  any  flag 
under  which  he  can  win  plaudits  and  provender.  He 
has  no  politics,  he  has  no  religion,  "  to  mention,"  he 
has  no  stake  in  permanent  society  whatever.  The  in- 
stitutions of   Christianity,   public   schools,   educational 


F.  Mendelssohn  Jones.  39 

schemes  and  systems,  the  great,  permanent  charities, 
municipal  and  neighborhood  life — he  has  no  share  in  all 
these.  He  runs  from  country  to  country  and  from  capi- 
tal to  capital,  or  scours  the  country,  and  does  not  cease 
his  travels  until  life  or  health  or  voice  is  gone.  It  is  im- 
possible for  any  man  to  be  subject  to  such  dissipation  as 
this  without  receiving  incalculable  damage  of  character. 
He  can  think  of  nothing  but  his  profession  under  these 
circumstances.  He  can  have  no  healthy  social  life,  no 
home  influences,  no  recognized  position  in  religious  and 
political  communities.  He  can  be  nothing  but  a  comet 
among  the  fixed  stars  and  regularly  revolving  systems  of 
the  world,  making  a  great  show  for  the  rather  nebulous 
head  which  he  carries,  occupying  more  blue  sky  for  the 
brief  period  than  belongs  to  him,  and  then  passing  out 
of  sight  and  out  of  memory,  leaving  no  track. 

I  might  go  further,  and  show  how  nearly  impossible 
it  is  for  a  public  singer,  who  sings  everything  every- 
where, who  wanders  over  the  world  and  lives  upon  the 
breath  of  popular  applause,  whose  life  seems  almost 
necessarily  made  up  of  intrigues  and  jealousies,  to  be 
a  religious  man.  No  matter  what  the  stage  of  the  thea- 
tre or  the  platform  of  the  concert-room  might  be,  or 
may  have  been ;  we  know  that  now  they  are  not  the 
places  where  piety  toward  God  is  in  such  a  state  of 
high  cultivation  that  good  people  throng  before  them  for 
religious  motive  and  inspiration.  The  whole  atmos- 
phere of  a  public  singer's  life  is  sensuous.     Like  the 


40  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

beggarly  old  reprobate  in  Rome  who  obtained  a  living 
by  sitting  to  artists  for  his  "  religious  expression,"  they 
coin  their  Te  Deums  into  dollars,  and  regard  a  mass  as 
only  a  style  of  music  to  be  treated  in  a  professional  way 
for  other  people  who  have  sufficient  interest  in  it  to  pay 
for  the  service.  Man  is  a  weak  creature,  and  it  takes 
a  great  many  influences  to  keep  him  in  the  path  of  relig- 
ious duty,  and  preserve  his  sympathy  with  those  grand 
spiritual  truths  which  relate  to  his  noblest  development 
and  his  highest  destiny.  These  influences  are  not  to  be 
secured  by  a  roving  life,  and  constantly  shifting  society, 
and  ministering  to  the  tastes  and  seeking  the  favor  of 
the  vulgar  crowd. 

On  the  whole,  I  do  not  wonder  that  Mr.  Felix  Men- 
delssohn Jones  is  no  better  than  he  is.  He  has  really 
had  more  influences  operating  against  him  than  I  had 
considered  when  I  began  to  write  this  essay.  Never- 
theless, he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself  and  institute 
a  reform.  He  ought  to  recast  his  life.  If  he  cannot 
settle  down  permanently  in  his  profession  in  some  town 
large  enough  to  support  him,  and  become  a  decent  hus- 
band to  his  wife  and  a  faithful  father  to  his  children, 
and  take  upon  his  shoulders  his  portion  of  the  burdens 
of  organized  society,  let  him  quit  his  profession  and 
go  into  some  other  business.  I  know  that  he  furnishes 
a  very  slender  basis  for  building  a  man  upon,  but  he 
can  at  least  cease  to  be  a  nuisance. 

I  know  a  good  many  musical  men  and  women  whom 


F.  Mendelssohn  Jones.  41 

music  or  devotion  to  music  has  not  damaged  ;  but 
these  men  and  women  have  entered  as  permanent  ele- 
ments into  the  society  in  which  they  live,  and  are 
something  more  than  musicians.  Singing  is  the  most 
charming  of  all  accomplishments  when  it  is  the  voice  of 
a  noble  nature  and  a  generous  culture  ;  and  all  music, 
when  it  preserves  its  legitimate  relations  to  the  great 
interests  of  human  society,  is  refining  and  liberalizing 
in  its  influence.  But  when  music  monopolizes  the  mind 
of  a  man ;  when  it  becomes  the  vehicle  through  which 
he  ministers  to  his  personal  vanity ;  when  it  either  be- 
comes degraded  to  be  the  instrument  for  procuring  his 
bread,  or  elevated  to  the  position  of  a  master  passion, 
it  spoils  him.  I  pray  that  no  friend  or  child  of  mine 
may  become  professionally  a  singing  man  or  singing 
woman.  All  the  circumstances  that  cluster  around  such 
a  life,  all  the  influences  associated  with  it,  and  the  great 
majority  of  its  natural  tendencies  are  against  the  devel- 
opment and  preservation  of  a  Christian  style  of  life  and 
character  and,  consequently,  against  the  best  form  of 
happiness  here  and  the  only  form  hereafter. 


HANS  SACHS  JONES, 

SHOEMAKER. 
CONCERNING  HIS  HABIT  OF  BUSINESS  LYING. 

MY  shoemaker,  Mr.  Hans  Sachs  Jones,  has  always 
seemed  to  me  to  be  an  anomalous  sort  of  person- 
age. On  the  street,  he  is  a  resjjectable  and  decent  man. 
I  would  take  his  note  for  any  sum  he  would  be  likely  to 
borrow,  and  rely  upon  its  payment  at  maturity.  Nay, 
I  would  accept  his  word  of  honor  at  any  time,  when  he 
has  his  coat  on  his  back  and  the  wax  is  off  his  fingers, 
with  entire  confidence.  He  has  been  entrusted  with  re- 
sponsibilities in  civil  and  social  affairs,  and  has  never  be- 
trayed them.  He  is  a  good  husband,  father,  friend,  and 
citizen,  but  he  stands  behind  his  counter  from  morning 
until  night,  and  lies  as  continuously  and  coolly  as  if  he 
were  a  flowing  fountain  of  falsehood.  He  will  not  assail 
me  in  the  street,  because  I  so  plainly  tell  him  this,  for 
he  knows  it  is  true,  and  that  I  like  him  too  well  to  in- 
sult him.  He  knows,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  he  never 
made  a  pair  of  boots  for  me  that  did  not  cost  him  more 
lies  than  they  cost  me  dollars. 


Hans  Sachs  Jones.  43 

I  have  stood  before  him,  on  some  occasions,  thor- 
oughly astonished  at  the  facility  and  ingenuity  and  bold- 
ness with  which  he  lied  his  way  out  from  among  the 
fragments  of  his  broken  engagements.  The  glibness  of 
his  tongue,  and  the  candor  of  his  tone,  and  the  immova- 
ble sincerity  of  his  features,  and  the  half-discouraged, 
half-wounded  expression  of  face  and  voice  with  which 
he  apologized  for  his  failure  to  keep  his  pledges,  were 
really  overwhelming.  I  have  sometimes  wondered 
whether  he  did  not  suppose  he  was  telling  the  truth — 
whether  he  had  not,  by  some  odd  hallucination,  come  to 
believe  that  the  causes  of  his  failure  to  keep  his  pledges 
had  a  real  and  permanent  existence.  Never  was  so  much 
sickness  suffered  by  journeymen  shoemakers  as  by  his. 
Never  had  shoemakers  such  sickly  children,  and  never 
had  shoemakers  so  many  children  born  to  them.  It  is 
a  strange  fatality,  too,  that  always  keeps  his  best  work- 
men on  a  spree.  I  have  never  known  any  class  of  arti- 
sans drink  so  much  as  those  he  employs.  He  is  always 
getting  out  of  the  right  kind  of  leather  at  the  wrong 
time,  or  suffering  by  some  occurrence  that  renders  it 
impossible  for  him  to  keep  his  promise,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  make  just  such  a  pair  of  boots  or  shoes  as  he 
feels  particular  about  making  for  his  particular  custom- 
ers. He  resorts  to  the  most  transparent  flattery  to  keep 
his  patrons  good-natured,  but  there  is  not  a  man  or 
woman  who  enters  his  shop  who  believes  a  word  he 
utters.     Day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  his  proni' 


44  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

ises  are  broken  with  regard  to  a  single  job,  and  his 
patrons  smile  in  his  face  at  the  excuses  which  his  tongue 
holds  ready  at  all  times ;  and  he  knows  that  they  know 
that  he  is  lying. 

He  is  not  a  sinner  in  this  respect  above  all  shoemakers, 
and  shoemakers  are  not  sinners  in  this  respect  above 
all  artisans  and  tradesmen.  He  happens  to  be  a  very 
perfect  specimen  of  a  class  of  men  who  work  for  the 
public  in  the  performance  of  essential  everyday  jobs  in 
the  various  mechanical  arts.  They  do  not  all  lie  as 
much  as  he  does,  but  many  of  them  lie  in  the  same  way, 
and  for  the  same  reason.  They  are  not  all  as  cool  about 
it  as  he  is,  but  lying  is  their  daily  resort. 

Now,  what  is  there  in  his  business  or  in  the  relations 
to  society  of  that  class  of  employments  to  which  he  be- 
longs, to  develop  the  untruthfulness  which  all  must 
admit  attaches  to  it  in  some  degree  ?  In  the  first  place, 
he  began  business  in  a  very  small  way,  and  was  able 
to  keep  his  promises,  never  making  any  that  he  did  not 
intend  to  keep.  Business  increased,  and  he  found 
among  his  best  customers^ — those  whose  patronage  he 
most  desired  to  retain — a  degree  of  unreasonable  impa- 
tience which  he  could  not  withstand.  He  was  imperi- 
ously urged  into  the  making  of  pledges  for  the  delivery 
of  work  which  he  could  not  make,  consistently  with  his 
previously  existing  engagements.  He  was  desirous  to 
please  ;  strong  wills,  backed  by  money,  were  brought 
to  bear  upon  him ;  the  keeping  of  his   promise  looked 


Hans  Sachs  Jones.  45 

possible,  even  if  not  altogether  practicable ;  and  he 
promised.  He  felt,  however,  that  somebody  was  to  be 
disappointed,  and  he  undertook  to  find  an  excuse  which 
would  lift  the  burden  of  blame  from  his  own  shoulders. 
He  did  not  dare  to  stand  before  his  customer  a  volun- 
tary delinquent ;  so  when  his  customer  came,  and  he 
was  not  ready  to  see  him,  he  justified  himself  by  throw- 
ing the  blame  upon  others,  or  upon  circumstances  over 
which  he  had  no  control.  The  customer  may  have  be- 
lieved him  at  first,  but  his  faith  soon  wore  out. 

The  shoemaker  learned,  at  length,  that  people  liked 
to  have  their  work  promised  early,  and  that  they  would 
take  his  apologies  for  failure  good-naturedly ;  and  he 
ran  into  the  habit  of  promising  work  early,  with  the  ex- 
pectation, if  not  the  direct  intention,  to  break  his  prom- 
ise. I  have  given  him  jobs  when  I  knew  he  lied  while 
taking  them,  and  expected  to  lie  a  great  many  times  be- 
fore he  finished  them.  He  has  told  me  repeatedly  that 
work  was  nearly  finished  when  I  knew  that  it  had  not 
been  begun ;  and  all  this  for  the  purpose  of  pleasing  me, 
and  saving  himself  from  blame.  He  was  not  naturally 
untruthful,  and  he  is  not  untruthful  now  where  his  busi- 
ness is  not  concerned,  but  in  his  business  he  has  made 
falsehood  the  rule  of  his  daily  life.  His  promises  are 
always  in  advance  of  his  power  to  perform,  and  the 
breaking  of  them  has  become  habitual. 

It  is  painful  to  see  a  man — otherwise  so  respectable — 
unreliable  in  the  place  where  men  meet  him  most ;  for 


46  Coficerning  the  Jones  Family. 

it  weakens  his  hold  upon  the  popular  regard,  and  cannot 
fail  to  depreciate  his  own  self-respect.  He  must  feel 
ashamed,  at  times,  to  realize  that  his  word  is  not  be- 
lieved, and  to  know  that  he  has  not  a  customer  in  the 
world  who  feels  at  all  sure  about  getting  work  done  by 
him  until  it  really  is  done  and  in  his  hands.  The  kind 
of  life  he  leads  must  also  be  an  exceedingly  uncomfort- 
able one.  Now  there  is  not  the  slightest  necessity  for 
this,  and  there  is  no  apology  for  it.  It  had  a  very  natu- 
ral beginning,  but  he  ought  to  have  learned  long  ago 
that  it  was  not  requisite  either  to  his  prosperity  or  to  his 
comfort.  He  gets  his  work  in  spite  of  his  lying,  and 
not  in  consequence  of  it.  His  habit  of  lying  is  the  only 
thing  people  have  against  him.  They  give  him  their 
custom  because  he  is  a  good  workman,  and  for  nothing 
else. 

I  have  no  doubt  that,  as  he  reads  this  letter,  he  says 
to  himself  that  I  talk  as  if  a  man  could  always  keep  his 
promises,  honestly  made,  and  as  if  there  were  men  in 
the  world  who  never  break  promises.  I  know,  indeed, 
that  there  is  no  man  who  can  so  thoroughly  depend 
upon  circumstances,  or  so  control  them,  as  always  to 
be  sure  to  keep  his  pledges.  Sickness  happens  to  all. 
Calamity  in  some  form  comes  to  all.  Drunkenness 
sometimes  overtakes  a  journeyman  shoemaker,  though, 
to  tell  the  truth,  such  men  are  not  commonly  employed 
by  masters  who  care  about  keeping  their  word.  Men 
of  business  punctilio,  and  regular  business  habits,  can 


Hans  Sachs  Jozies.  47 

always  secure  the  best  workmen.  It  is  only  the  unreli- 
able masters  who  are  obliged  to  accept  unreliable  hands, 
though  I  would  by  no  means  intimate  that  1  believe  in  his 
representations  concerning  the  drunkenness  of  his  work- 
men. His  men  are  shamefully  belied  ;  and  if  they  knew 
how  badly  they  are  slandered,  they  would  rebel.  No  ;  I 
admit  that  the  most  prompt  and  punctual  men  must  fail, 
through  unforeseen  impediments,  to  keep  every  prom- 
ise ;  but  such  men  do  not  lie  their  way  out  of  their  dif- 
ficulty, and  are  only  the  more  careful  about  making  and 
keeping  their  engagements  afterward. 

To  me,  one  of  the  most  admirable  things  in  the  world 
is  business  punctilio.  I  think  it  is  rare  to  find  very  bad 
men  among  thorough  business  men.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  a  good  business  man  is  necessarily  religious, 
or  even  necessarily  without  vices.  I  mean,  simply,  that 
it  is  difficult  to  be  strictly  honest  in  business,  and  sensi- 
tive in  all  matters  pertaining  to  business  engagements, 
and  thoroughly  punctual  in  the  fulfilment  of  all  business 
obligations,  and  at  the  same  time  to  be  loose  in  morals 
and  dissipated  in  personal  habits.  I  have  great  respect 
for  those  rigid  laws  of  the  counting-room  which  regulate 
the  dealings  between  man  and  man,  and  which  make 
the  counting-room  as  exact  in  all  matters  of  time  and 
exchange  as  a  banking-house — which  ignore  friendship, 
affection,  and  all  personal  considerations  whatsoever — 
which  place  neighbors  and  brothers  on  the  same  plat- 
form with  enemies  and  aliens,  and  which  make  an  auto- 


48  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

crat  of  an  accountant,  who  is,  at  the  same  time,  strictly 
an  obedient  subject  of  his  own  laws.  I  say  it  is  hard  for 
a  man  to  enter  as  a  perfectly  harmonious  element  into 
this  grand  system  of  business,  and  submit  himself  to  its 
rigid  rules,  and  maintain  his  position  in  it  with  perfect 
integrity  and,  at  the  same  time,  be  a  very  bad  man. 
To  a  certain  extent  he  bows  to  and  obeys  a  high  stan- 
dard of  life.  He  may  not  always  recognize  fully  the 
moral  element  which  it  embodies.  He  may  take  a  self- 
ish view  of  the  whole  matter,  but  he  cannot  be  entirely 
insensible  to  the  principle  of  personal  honor  which  it  in- 
volves, or  fail  to  be  influenced  by  the  personal  habits 
which  it  enforces.  Some  of  the  best  business  men  I 
have  ever  known  have  been  the  most  charitable  men  I 
have  ever  known.  Men  who  have  acquired  wealth  by 
rigid  adherence  to  business  integrity,  and  who  have 
sometimes  been  deemed  harsh  and  hard  by  those  with 
whom  they  have  had  business  relations,  have  shown  a 
liberality  and  a  generosity  toward  objects  of  charity 
which  have  placed  them  among  the  world's  benefactors. 
Men  who  have  exacted  the  last  fraction  of  a  cent  with 
one  hand,  in  the  way  of  business,  have  disbursed  thou- 
sands of  dollars  with  the  other,  in  the  way  of  charity. 

On  another  side  of  this  subject,  it  may  be  stated  that 
it  is  not  possible  for  a  man  to  be  careless  in  business 
affairs,  or  unmindful  of  his  business  obligations,  without 
being  weak  or  rotten  in  his  personal  character.  Show 
me  a  man  who  never  pays  his  notes  when  they  are  due, 


Hans  Sachs  Jottes.  49 

and  who  shuns  the  payment  of  his  bills  when  it  is  possi- 
ble, and  does  both  these  things  as  a  habit,  and  I  shall 
see  a  man  whose  moral  character  is,  beyond  all  question, 
bad.  We  have  had  illustrious  examples  of  this  lack  of 
business  exactness.  We  have  had  great  men  who  were 
in  the  habit  of  borrowing  money  without  repaying  it,  or 
apologizing  for  not  repaying  it.  We  have  had  great  men 
whose  business  habits  were  simply  scandalous  —  who 
never  paid  a  bill  unless  urged  and  worried,  and  who  ex- 
pended for  their  personal  gratification  every  cent  of 
money  they  could  lay  their  hands  upon.  These  delin- 
quencies have  been  apologized  for  as  among  the  eccen- 
tricities of  genius,  or  as  that  unmindfulness  of  small 
affairs  which  naturally  attends  all  greatness  of  intellect 
and  intellectual  effort ;  but  the  world  has  been  too  easy 
with  them  altogether.  I  could  name  great  men — and  the 
names  of  some  of  them  arise  before  the  readers  of  this 
paper — who  were  atrociously  dishonest.  I  do  not  care 
how  great  these  men  were.  I  do  not  care  how  many 
amiable  and  admirable  traits  they  possessed.  They  were 
dishonest  and  untrustworthy  men  in  their  business  rela- 
tions, and  that  simple  fact  condemns  them.  I  am  ready 
to  believe  anything  bad  of  a  man  who  habitually  neglects 
to  fulfil  his  business  obligations.  Such  a  man  is  certainly 
rotten  at  heart.  He  is  not  to  be  trusted  with  a  public 
responsibility,  or  a  rum  bottle,  or  a  woman. 

Now,  Mr.  Hans  Sachs  Jones,  has  customers  of  this 
class.     Will  he  permit  me   to   ask  him  how  he   likes 
3 


50  Concerning  the  Jojies  Family. 

them?  Some  of  these  men  are  poor,  but  quite  as  many 
of  them  are  rich.  He  lied  to  them  a  great  many  times 
before  they  made  their  little  bills  with  him,  and  they 
have  lied  to  him  a  great  many  times  since.  When  he 
has  had  money  to  raise,  they  have  promised  to  furnish  it 
to  him,  and  then  they  have  failed  to  keep  their  pledges. 
Not  unfrequently  when  he  has  upbraided  them  for  dis- 
appointing him,  they  have  retorted  by  telling  him  that 
he  made  them  wait  for  their  work,  and  that  it  is  perfectly 
proper  that  he  should  wait  for  his  pay.  Their  reply  was 
a  fair  one  so  far  as  he  was  concerned.  It  was  just  as 
much  a  matter  of  business  honor  that  he  should  keep 
his  promises,  as  it  was  that  they  should  keep  theirs.  It 
was  just  as  wrong  for  him  to  promise  his  work  before  he 
could  give  it  to  them,  as  it  was  for  them  to  promise  to 
pay  him,  before  they  could  pay  him,  or  before  they 
intended  to  pay  him.  In  his  heart,  he  thinks  these  men 
are  very  mean,  and  in  their  hearts  they  think  that  he  is 
just  as  mean  as  they  are,  and  they  are  right.  Their  plej*. 
leaves  him  defenceless,  and  they  banter  and  badger 
him  until  he  becomes  disgusted  with  his  business  and 
himself.  Ah  !  if  he  had  never  given  those  customers  of 
his  an  advantage  over  him,  by  his  constant  failures  to 
keep  his  word  with  them,  he  would  be  worth  a  good 
many  more  dollars  to-day  than  he  is. 

Then  he  ought  to  remember  that  he  owes  a  debt  of 
honor  to  his  guild.  A  very  admirable  thing  among 
tradesmen   of  the   same   class   is   that  esprit  de  corps 


Hans  Sachs  J  onus.  5 1 

which  enables  them  to  join  hands  in  a  recognized  com- 
munity of  honor  and  of  interest,  and  to  look  upon  their 
trade  as  the  kind  mother  that  feeds  them  and  that  de- 
serves at  their  hands  the  treatment  due  from  grateful 
and  chivalrous  sons.  He  has  doubtless  heard  of  as- 
sociations of  men  engaged  in  much  humbler  employ- 
ments than  his  (humbler  in  the  world's  judgment), 
that  really  won  the  respect  and  admiration  of  the  com- 
munities in  which  they  lived — men  who  felt  strength- 
ened and  ennobled  by  their  association  —  men  who 
came  by  their  association  to  feel  the  slightest  insult 
offered  to  their  trade  as  a  personal  affront.  I  say  that 
this  esprit  de  corps  is  a  very  admirable  thing,  and,  fur- 
ther, that  it  gives,  or  may  give,  a  true  dignity  to  any 
honest  calling  under  heaven.  We  do  not  have  so  much 
of  this  in  this  country  as  we  ought  to  have.  All  Euro- 
pean countries  are  ahead  of  us  in  this  matter,  princi- 
pally, perhaps,  for  the  reason  that  in  those  countries  the 
acquisition  and  pursuit  of  trades  are  more  particularly  a 
matter  of  legal  regulation.  Here  a  man  may  set  up  a 
trade  whether  he  ever  learned  it  or  not ;  and  few  learn 
their  trades  thoroughly.  It  is  more  difficult,  therefore, 
to  secure  community  of  feeling  among  those  engaged  in 
the  same  pursuits  here  than  abroad  ;  but  it  is  none  the 
less  desirable  and  necessary,  that  among  good  workmen 
there  should  be  brotherhood  of  feeling  and  interest — • 
pride  and  sympathy  of  guild.  It  would  give  Mr.  Hans 
Sachs  Jones  dignity,  protection,  respectability  ;  and  he 


$2  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

would  feel  in  all  his  business  transactions  that,  however 
reckless  he  might  be  of  disgrace  to  himself,  he  has  no 
right  to  disgrace  his  business,  or  his  brotherhood. 

I  repeat,  then,  that  he  owes  a  debt  of  honor  to  his 
guild.  There  are  men  engaged  in  the  same  calling  with 
him,  who  scorn  the  petty  arts  of  falsehood  to  which  he 
resorts.  They  are  men  of  character — men  who  never 
make  a  promise  which  they  do  not  intend  to  keep,  and 
who  faithfully  and  conscientiously  strive  to  keep  every 
promise  which  they  make.  These  are  the  men  who  give 
to  their  calling  all  the  respectability  which  it  possesses. 
All  labor  of  the  hands,  pursued  for  bread,  is  honorable, 
and  honorable  alike.  One  trade  is  respectable  above 
another  only  in  consequence  of  the  superior  respectabil- 
ity of  the  class  of  men  engaging  in  it.  Now,  any  trades- 
man has  a  right,  in  a  certain  sense,  to  disgrace  himself, 
but  he  has  no  right  to  disgrace  his  trade  and  his  guild. 
His  devotion  to  this  idea  should  be  almost  religious  ; 
for,  in  a  certain  degree,  he  has  the  reputation  of  the 
whole  class  with  which  he  is  identified  in  interest  in  his 
keeping,  and  he  is  bound  by  every  principle  of  justice 
and  honor  not  to  betray  it. 

I  have  not  alluded,  in  what  I  have  to  say  upon  this 
subject,  to  those  higher  motives  of  conduct  which  grc 
out  of  his  relations  to  the  God  of  truth,  nor  do  I  propos 
to  do  so.     The  subject  of  this  paper  knows  just  as  we. 
as  I  do,  that  his  system  of  business   lying  is  morally 
wrong.     I  simply  wish,  in  closing  this  paper,  to  call  his 


Hans  Sachs  Jones.  53 

attention  to  the  fact  that  he  has  arrived  at  a  point  where 
his  conscience  ceases  to  trouble  him.  He  does  not  use 
profane  language.  He  is  shocked  when  he  hears  others 
use  it,  but  he  is  aware  that  many  of  his  acquaintances 
swear  from  habit,  and,  by  habitual  swearing,  have 
ceased  to  look  upon  their  profanity  as  profanity.  They 
take  the  names  of  God  and  Jesus  Christ  in  vain,  and  call 
for  curses  upon  the  heads  even  of  their  friends,  without 
a  thought  of  sin  and  without  a  twinge  of  conscience. 
Over  a  certain  region  of  their  moral  sense  profanity  has 
trampled,  until  it  has  trampled  the  life  all  out  of  it.  So, 
over  a  certain  region  of  his  moral  sense,  these  lies  of  his 
have  trod  their  daily  course,  until  not  a  blade  of  grass 
or  a  flower  is  left  to  give  token  of  life,  or  breathe  com- 
plaint of  the  invaders.  They  have  trampled  out  all  sen- 
sibility, and  he  lies  without  feeling  it ;  and  when  he  is 
detected  and  indignantly  rebuked,  as  he  sometimes  is, 
he  only  feels  his  detection  as  an  inconvenience,  which 
might  have  been  avoided  by  more  ingenious  lying.  I 
beg  him  to  discontinue  this  ruinous  practice,  and  see  if 
sensibility  will  not  once  more  inform  those  functions  of 
his  moral  nature  which  persistent  abuse  has  indurated 
and  rendered  useless. 


EDWARD  PAYSON  JONES. 

CONCERNING  HIS  FAILURE    TO  YIELD  TO  HIS  CON 
VIC  TIG  NS  OF  DUTY. 

AS  I  write  this  name,  there  comes  before  me  the  vision 
of  a  fair-haired,  blue-eyed  boy,  who  was  fed  by 
smiles  and  pleasant  words  at  home  so  constantly  that  his 
whole  nature  was  sweetened  by  them.  I  remember  how 
he  used  to  look  up  into  my  face  for  recognition,  and  for 
the  greeting  and  the  smile  which  he  had  learned  to  ex- 
pect from  everybody.  Into  few  faces  did  those  expect- 
ant blue  eyes  look  in  vain,  for  he  was  the  universal 
favorite.  I  remember  that  I  was  always  so  much  im- 
pressed by  his  pure  and  precious  nature,  that  I  could 
never  resist  the  impulse  to  put  my  arm  around  him  and 
draw  him  to  my  heart.  It  was  easy  to  love  him,  and 
sweet  to  be  loved  by  him  ;  and  those  who  knew  his 
sainted  mother  knew  why  he  was  what  he  was  in  spirit- 
ual and  personal  loveliness.  That  mother  has  been 
dead  a  long  time,  and  it  is  easy  to  imagine  her  reason 
for  giving  her  son  the  name  of  Edward  Payson.  Ah, 
yes !   ;  know  that  even  he  must  sometimes  remembex 


Edward  Pay  son  Jones.  55 

that  in  her  heart  of  hearts — before  he  was  born — she 
dedicated  him  to  the  service  of  the  Saviour  of  men,  and 
that  she  crowned  him  with  a  name  hallowed  by  a  wide 
wealth  of  Christian  associations  that  she  might  be  re- 
minded of  her  gift  whenever  she  pronounced  it.  The 
absorbing  hope  of  her  life  was  to  see  her  boy  in  the 
pulpit,  and  to  hear  him  preach  the  everlasting  gospel. 
To  compass  this  end  she  would  have  been  willing  to 
work  her  fingers  to  the  bone  ;  to  live  in  want ;  to  deny 
herself  every  worldly  pleasure ;  nay,  to  lay  down  her 
life  itself.  She  died,  at  last,  without  seeing  the  attain- 
ment of  the  object  for  which  she  had  labored  and  prayed 
so  ardently. 

Well,  he  is  now  a  man  ;  and  he  is  just  as  widely  a 
favorite  to-day  as  he  was  when  he  was  a  boy  ;  but  he  is 
not  the  man  whom  his  mother  prayed  he  might  become, 
and  is  not  likely  to  be.  That  he  is  stifling  convictions 
of  duty  by  the  course  which  he  is  pursuing,  every  man 
knows  who  remembers  his  early  training,  and  the  na- 
ture upon  which  that  training  could  not  fail  to  leave  its 
impress.  He  is  a  man  whom  everybody  loves  ;  whom 
everybody  praises ;  whom  everybody  believes  to  be  in 
a  measure  the  subject  of  Christian  conviction  ;  whom 
everybody  believes  to  be,  within  certain  limitations, 
controlled  by  Christian  principles  ;  yet,  in  an  irreligious 
community,  he  has  never,  in  a  manly  way,  declared 
himself  in  the  possession  and  on  the  side  of  personal 
Christianity.      Under   these    circumstances,   there  are 


56  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

some  things  which  it  seems  to  me  to  be  my  duty  to  say 
to  him  and  about  him. 

Christianity  is  everything,  or  it  is  nothing ;  it  is 
divine,  or  it  is  nothing;  it  has  the  right  to  the  entire 
control  of  a  man's  Hfe,  or  it  has  no  claims  at  all.  It  is 
hardly  necessary  that  I  should  argue  the  transcendent 
worth,  the  divine  origin,  or  the  grand  claims  of  that  re- 
ligion which  made  an  angel  of  one's  mother,  and  trans- 
formed the  little  room  in  which  she  died  into  heaven's 
gateway.  It  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  assure  Ed- 
ward Payson  Jones  that  these  convictions  of  duty  which 
haunt  him  everywhere,  which  assert  themselves  in  his 
heart  in  every  scene  of  questionable  mirth  and  careless 
society,  are  not  superstitions  engendered  by  early  edu- 
cation in  error.  It  is  hardly  necessary  that  I  should 
try  to  prove  to  him  that  a  life  which  does  not  acknowl- 
edge a  rule  of  action  imposed  by  the  Author  of  life, 
must  necessarily  be  a  life  of  transgression  and  the  fruits 
of  transgression.  He  knows — he  is  entirely  convinced — 
that  he  owes  the  devoted  allegiance  of  his  heart,  the 
obedience  of  his  will,  and  the  gift  of  his  life  to  that  re- 
ligion in  which  alone  abides  the  secret  of  the  purification 
and  salvation  of  himself  and  his  race.  He  is  convinced 
that  without  Christianity  this  world  would  be  as  dark  as 
the  infernal  shades  ;  that  it  alone  gives  significance  to 
life ;  that  it  alone  can  give  such  direction  to  its  issues 
that  they  shall  rise  to  everlasting  harmony  and  everlast- 
ing happiness. 


Edward  Payson  Jones.  57 

There  are  those  around  us  who  do  not  believe  in  these 
things.  They  had  not  a  Christian  training.  They  do  not 
possess  pureness  of  insight.  In  short,  they  are  not,  to  any 
great  extent,  the  subjects  of  religious  conviction  ;  and  yet 
these  are  the  men  who  are  chosen  by  Edward  Payson 
Jones  as  his  associates  and  fellows.  Is  it  a  manly  thing 
for  one  like  him,  with  his  convictions,  to  live  like  one 
who  has  no  convictions  ?  Must  he  not  feel  that  he  is 
disgracing  himself,  and  depreciating  his  own  self-respect, 
by  constantly  refusing  to  yield  his  heart  and  life  to  the 
claim  of  those  convictions  ? 

While  he  gives  such  answers  to  these  questions  as  I 
know  he  cannot  fail  to  give,  if  he  considers  them  at  all, 
and  while  he  half  resolves  to  yield  to  convictions  which 
I  know  are  pressing  upon  him  with  redoubled  force,  he 
looks  forward  to  the  possible  consequences  of  a  change 
in  the  motives  and  regulating  forces  of  his  life.  Before 
his  imagination,  glaring  gloomily  in  the  distance,  there 
stands  a  lion  in  the  way.  A  hearty  and  unconditional 
surrender  to  his  convictions  would  involve  changes  in 
his  social  relations,  in  habits  which  have  become  en- 
deared to  him,  in  the  general  sources  from  which  he 
has  drawn  the  satisfactions  of  his  life.  He  knows  that 
a  change  like  this  would  bring  with  it  a  public  declara- 
tion of  his  faith,  and  a  publicly  formed  union  with  those 
men  and  women  who  have  organized  themselves  into 
the  Christian  Church.  He  shrinks  from  this  with  a  sen- 
sitiveness of  selfish  pride  which  ought  to  show  that  he  is 
3* 


5 8  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

very  much  farther  from  being  a  Christian  than  he  sup- 
poses himself  to  be,  for  with  all  his  consciousness  of 
religious  convictions  stifled,  he  is  fondly  cherishing  the 
fancy  that  he  is  already  quite  as  good  as  Christians 
average. 

Now,  he  ought  to  know  that  I  do  not  entertain  a  very 
extravagant  opinion  of  the  prerogatives  of  the  Christian 
Church.  No  church  has  the  power  to  save  him  or  any 
man,  or  to  say  whether  he  or  any  man  shall  be  saved  or 
not.  He  knows  also  that  I  am  no  propagandist  of  sec- 
tarian doctrines  and  policies.  If  a  church  is  a  Christian 
church,  that  is  enough.  I  do  not  care  the  value  of 
a  straw  by  what  name  it  calls  itself.  I  look  upon  it  as 
a  school  of  Christian  disciples — of  imperfect  men  and 
women  who  have  chosen  Christianity  as  their  religion, 
their  reforming  motive,  and  their  rule  of  life  ;  the  grand 
system  of  spiritual  truths  into  which  they  have  garnered 
their  hopes  for  this  life  and  the  life  to  come — garnered 
their  temporal  and  eternal  satisfactions.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve in  the  infallibility  of  any  church,  or  in  the  sinless- 
ness  of  any  member  of  any  church.  Nay,  I  do  not 
believe  that  the  act  of  uniting  with  a  church  has  in 
itself  any  saving  grace  whatever.  Church  is  not  Christi- 
anity and  Christianity  is  not  church  in  any  practical 
sense.  A  man  is  probably  just  as  good  a  Christian  the 
moment  before  joining  a  church  as  he  is  the  moment 
after,  but  a  Christian  will  cast  in  his  lot  with  Christians, 
if  he  possesses  a  decent  degree  of  manhood,  and  share 


Edward  Payson  Jones.  59 

with  them  in  the  Christian  work  and  responsibility  of 
the  world. 

I  very  well  know  what  the  influences  are  which  re- 
strain Edward  Payson  from  yielding  to  his  convictions, 
and  from  taking  the  public  step  which  would  naturally 
follow  such  a  surrender.  He  loves  praise,  he  likes 
to  be  loved  by  everybody,  and  he  has  very  strong 
friends  among  all  sorts  of  people.  The  good  people 
praise  him,  and  feel  as  if  he,  with  his  straightforward 
life  and  good  habits,  belonged  to  them.  The  bad  peo- 
ple like  him,  and  feel  that,  by  his  practical  denial  of  the 
claims  of  Christianity,  he  makes  their  position  respecta- 
ble. But  where  does  he  find  his  delights  ?  Who  are 
his  cronies  ?  Whose  society  does  he  seek  ?  When  he 
feels  inclined  to  yield  to  his  convictions  of  duty,  whose 
are  the  shrugging  shoulders  and  the  pitying  smiles ; 
whose  are  the  quiet  jest,  and  the  banter,  and  the  badi- 
nage which  come  in  quick  vision  to  him  to  shame  and 
scare  him  ?  Ah !  he  does  not  love  that  which  is  char- 
acteristically Christian  society.  He  loves  that  which 
has  no  Christian  element  in  it  except  the  element  of 
decency ;  and  he  feels  that  to  become  the  member  of 
a  Christian  church  would  throw  him  out  of  sympathy 
with  men  whose  good  will  and  good  fellowship  he  counts 
among  his  choicest  treasures.  He  cannot  bear  that 
these  men  should  think  him  weak  and  womanish.  He 
cannot  bear  to  become  the  subject  of  their  lenient  and 
charitable  scorn. 


6o  Concerning  the  Joties  Family. 

Human  friendship  is  very  sweet.  These  ties  that 
bind  heart  to  heart ;  these  sympathetic  responses  of  kin- 
dred natures ;  these  loves  among  men,  glorify  human 
life  ;  but  they  not  unfrequently  form  a  bond  of  union  so 
strong,  that  one  powerful  nature  will,  through  their  aid, 
carry  whithersoever  it  will — even  into  the  jaws  of  de- 
struction— all  the  lives  that  are  joined  with  it.  The  ice 
upon  the  mountain-side  links  rock  to  rock,  till  the  light- 
ning or  the  earthquake  loosens  the  hold  of  the  giant  of 
the  group,  and  it  drags  them  all  into  the  valley  below. 
Life  nearly  always  follows  the  current  of  its  friendships, 
or  flows  parallel  with  it.  If  a  man  finds  his  most  grate- 
ful companionship  among  those  who  are  irreligious — 
either  negatively  or  positively — he  shows  just  what  and 
where  his  heart  is.  Like  seeks  and  sympathizes  with 
like. 

I  ask  the  subject  of  this  paper  to  apply  this  test  to 
himself.  What  kind  of  society  does  he  delight  in  most  ? 
Does  he  love  and  cling  to  those  most  who  best  represent 
to  him  the  religion  in  which  his  mother  lived  and  died, 
or  those  who  practically  hold  that  religion  in  very  light 
esteem  ?  I  ask  him  to  apply  this  test,  because  I  think 
he  is  entertaining  the  idea  that,  although  he  makes  no 
professions,  he  is  quite  as  good  a  Christian  as  those  are 
who  do.  But  he  chooses  freely  to  give  his  most  inti- 
mate friendships  to  the  worldlings  by  whom  he  is  sur- 
rounded. I  state  the  fact,  and  leave  him  to  his  own 
conclusions. 


Edward  Pay  son  Jones.  6 1 

There  is  another  powerful  influence  which  dissuades 
him  from  yielding  to  his  convictions  :  He  is  absorbed 
in  business.  All  the  activities  of  his  nature  are  given  to 
it.  Great  business  responsibilities  are  upon  him,  and 
his  heart  gives  them  glad  entertainment,  for  they  are 
full  of  promise  to  his  ambition  and  his  desire  for  wealth. 
Business  occupies  nearly  all  his  waking  thoughts,  and 
even  haunts  his  pillow  and  breaks  his  slumbers.  It  in- 
trudes itself  upon  his  family  life,  and  monopolizes  both 
his  time  and  his  vital  power.  His  heart  is  so  full  that 
he  has  no  room  in  it  for  another  object.  Wife  and  chil- 
dren, and  friends  and  business — these  four ;  but  the 
greatest  of  these,  practically,  is  business.  If  he  will 
candidly  examine  himself,  he  will  see  that  I  do  not  over- 
rate this  power  of  business  which  shuts  out  from  his 
heart  a  guest  who  sits  and  shivers  in  its  ante-room  in 
the  cold  society  of  his  convictions.  To  make  this  mat- 
ter still  worse,  he  is  thrown  in  contact  with  men,  in  the 
way  of  business,  upon  whom  he  is,  to  a  certain  extent, 
dependent  for  his  prosperity,  who  hold  Christianity  and 
its  professed  friends  and  possessors  in  contempt.  These 
men,  with  their  business  thoughts  and  schemes,  break 
in  upon  his  Sabbaths  ;  they  tempt  him,  they  familiarize 
his  ears  with  profanity,  and  invest  him  constantly  with 
an  atmosphere  of  worldliness.  He  has  in  his  present 
position  no  defence  against  the  influence  of  these  asso- 
ciations. He  has  never  declared  himself  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  Christianity,  and  these  business  friends  of  his 


62  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

know  it  They  recognize  him  as  one  of  their  own  number, 
and  treat  him  accordingly  ;  and  yet  he  is  fooUsh  enough 
to  believe,  or  to  try  to  make  himself  believe,  that  a  man 
can  be  just  as  good  a  Christian  outside  of  a  church  as 
inside  of  it.  Yet  if  he  felt  himself  identified  with  a  great 
cause,  he  would  not  betray  it.  I  am  sure  that  he  has 
often  comforted  himself  with  the  consideration  that,  if 
he  has  failed  to  become  what  his  convictions  have  urged 
him  to  become,  no  one  has  been  harmed  but  himself. 

Edward  Payson  Jones  is  a  man  of  honor.  I  have 
given  him  the  credit  of  being  sensitively  such.  I  know 
of  no  man  who  more  thoroughly  despises  a  mean  and 
unmanly  spirit,  or  a  mean  and  unmanly  deed.  If  he 
were  to  see  a  man  who,  for  any  reason,  should  cast  his 
vote  at  an  election  contrary  to  his  convictions  of  politi- 
cal duty,  or  one  who  should  stand  upon  the  fence  in 
an  important  canvass  and  refuse  to  place  himself  upon 
the  side  of  the  right,  or  who,  in  a  great  pubUc  emer- 
gency, should  fail  to  perform  his  duty  through  absorb- 
ing devotion  to  his  private  pursuits,  he  would  think  him 
a  mean  man.  He  would  despise  particularly  one  whom 
he  knew  to  be  the  subject  of  strong  political  convictions, 
which  were  so  feebly  pronounced  that  all  parties  claimed 
him.  I  take  his  own  standard,  and  reply  to  him.  I  say, 
on  the  authority  of  his  own  best  judgments,  that  it  is 
mean  and  unmanly  for  him,  with  his  strong  religious 
convictions,  to  refuse  to  stand  by  them  and  act  up  to 
them.     It  is  mean  and   unmanly  to  refuse  tt>  idenUfv 


Edward  Payson  Jones.  63 

himself  with  the  society,  and  assist  in  maintaining  and 
forwarding  the  cause  of  those  whom,  sooner  or  later,  he 
deliberately  intends  to  join,  and  whom  he  feels  and 
knows  to  be  in  the  right.  If  he  were  not  convinced  of 
the  truth,  I  would  be  more  charitable  toward  him.  If 
there  remained  anything  to  be  done  in  shaping  the  judg- 
ment of  his  intellect  and  his  heart,  he  would  have  some 
excuse  ;  but  no  such  exigency  exists.  No,  he  is  con- 
vinced ;  but  he  flinches,  and  he  refuses  to  stand  in  a 
manly  way  by  what  he  knows  and  feels  to  be  right. 

While  I  thus  blame  him,  I  pity  him.  I  know  how 
much  his  will  bends  before  these  words  of  mine,  and 
how  impotent  he  feels  for  action  in  the  right  direction. 
He  almost  feels  as  if  his  hands  and  feet  were  tied.  He 
almost  feels  as  if  he  must  follow  his  old  friendships — 
that  they  have  fastened  themselves  to  him  by  hooks  of 
steel  whith  cannot  be  broken.  He  feels  that  his  busi- 
ness is  upon  him,  and  all  its  associations,  and  that 
neither  can  be  lifted.  He  feels  that  he  really  has  no 
room  in  his  life  for  those  experiences  and  those  duties 
which  accompany  the  surrender  of  the  heart  to  religion. 
He  feek  himself  walled  around  by  obstacles,  and,  what 
is  really  worse  than  this,  he  knows  that  he  grows  more 
and  more  in  love  with  the  life  he  leads,  and  less  inclined 
to  take  the  direction  of  his  early  training.  The  oath 
does  not  shock  him  as  it  once  did  ;  vulgarity  is  not  as  of- 
fensive as  it  was  ;  he  has  learned  to  look  more  leniently 
upon  the  vices  of  the  men  by  whom  he  is  surrounded ; 


64  Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

worldliness  does  not  seem  so  barren  a  form  of  life  as 
formerly ;  he  is  charmed  and  excited  by  success ;  and 
he  cannot  deny  to  himself  the  fact  that,  strong  as  his 
convictions  of  duty  are,  his  heart  and  his  life  are  grow- 
ing more  and  more  widely  estranged  from  them.  Where 
can  he  suppose  all  this  will  end  ?  He  has  common 
sense,  and  can  judge  as  well  as  I.  Do  habits  grow 
weaker  by  long  continuance  ?  Are  the  cares  of  busi- 
ness less  absorbing  as  life  advances  ?  Is  moral  convic- 
tion stronger  for  constant  denial  and  insult  ?  I  say  he 
has  common  sense  and  can  judge  as  well  as  I.  He 
knows  as  well  as  I  that  this  life  of  his  must  have  a  rup- 
ture with  its  surroundings ;  that  his  feet  must  turn  into 
another  path  ;  that  he  must  yield  himself  a  conquest  to 
his  convictions,  or  that  his  life  will  be  one  of  disaster, 
and  that  its  end  will  be  wretchedness  or  an  induration 
worse  than  wretchedness. 

He  is  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  men  and  women  who 
do  not  regard  life  as  a  very  serious  thing.  They  take  it 
carelessly  and  even  gaily.  He  sees  the  multitudes  rush- 
ing along  in  the  pursuit  of  baubles.  Men  live  and  die, 
and  there  comes  back  no  voice  to  tell  whether  they  sleep 
with  the  brutes  or  wake  with  the  angels.  Men  eat  and 
sleep,  and  love  and  hate,  and  make  display  of  their 
equipage,  and  pursue  their  ambitions,  and  indulge  in  all 
the  forms  of  vanity  and  pride,  and  all  life  comes  at  last 
to  seem  like  a  sort  of  phantasmagoria — empty,  unreal, 
insignificant.     He  sees  that  these  convictions  of  his  have 


Edward  Pay  son  Jones.  65 

no  place  in  the  multitude  of  minds  around  him,  and  no 
place  in  the  current  of  life  by  which  he  feels  himself 
borne  along.  There  are  moments,  I  suppose,  when  he 
doubts  the  soundness  of  these  convictions — when  he 
half  believes  that  he  is  the  victim  of  a  morbid  con- 
science or  a  superstitious  impression.  At  such  mo- 
ments as  these — when  the  tricks  of  the  world  delude 
him  most,  he  comes  back  to  his  mother  and  learns  the 
truth.  That  life  of  hers,  so'pure  and  unselfish  and  use- 
ful, and  that  death  of  hers,  so  peaceful  and  triumphant, 
are  realities.  They  can  never  lie  to  him,  and  the  mo- 
ment he  touches  them,  he  knows  that  he  touches  some- 
thing divine — something  by  the  side  of  which  all  worldli- 
ness  and  wealth  and  material  success  are  chaff. 

He  will  perceive  in  what  I  have  written  to  him,  that  I 
have  not  undertaken  to  convince  him  of  anything.  I  have 
not  undertaken  even  to  deepen  his  convictions.  I  have 
simply  endeavored  to  reveal  him  and  his  own  experi- 
ence to  himself,  and  to  urge  him  to  yield  to  convictions 
which  I  know  are  striving  to  gain  the  control  of  his  life. 
I  have  simply  urged  him  to  be  true  to  himself ;  to  take 
a  bold,  manly,  consistent  stand  upon  the  side  which  he 
knows  to  be  right ;  to  be  a  Christian  man  in  Christian 
society,  and  to  refuse  longer  to  stand  upon  what  he  mis- 
takenly regards  as  neutral  ground.  He  ought  to  know 
that  he  is  abusing  and  ruining  himself.  He  ought  to  re- 
alize that  the  passage  of  every  day  renders  it  less  probable 
that  his  convictions  will  ever  gain  the  victory  over  him. 


66  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

I  appreciate  the  struggle  it  would  cost  him  to  welcome 
the  new  motive  and  change  the  policy  and  issues  of  his 
life.  The  preacher  may  talk  as  he  will  of  the  path  of 
life  and  the  ease  of  yielding  up  the  will,  but  he  and  I 
know  that  there  is  no  ease  about  it.  We  know  that 
whatever  may  be  the  truth  touching  the  doctrine  of  uni- 
versal total  depravity,  it  is  not  natural  for  us  to  lead  re- 
ligious lives.  It  takes  sacrifice  and  fighting  and  heroism 
to  do  that.  I  know  it  and  he  knows  it.  Easy  to  be  a 
Christian  man  ?  It  is  mean  for  a  man  like  him  not  to 
be  one ;  it  is  wrong  for  a  man  like  him  not  be  one ; 
but  Heaven  knows  that  it  is  not  easy  for  him  to  be  one, 
or  he  would  have  been  one  long  ago.  No,  it  will  be 
hard  for  him  to  be  one,  and  it  will  grow  harder  every 
year  till  he  becomes  one.  But  it  will  pay ;  and  when 
he  is  once  fairly  on  the  right  side  he  will  not  care  for 
the  struggle,  for  he  will  have  good  company,  a  clean 
conscience,  and  an  outlook  into  the  far  future  unclouded 
and  full  of  inspiration. 


MRS.   JESSY   BELL  JONES. 

CONCERNING    THE  DIFFICULTY  SHE  EXPERI- 
ENCES IN  KEEPING  HER  SERVANTS. 

IT  has  been  stated  to  me,  confidentially,  that  Mrs. 
Jessy  Bell  Jones  has  had  nineteen  different  cooks 
and  thirteen  chambermaids  in  her  house  during  the  past 
year.  This  may  be  slightly  above  the  annual  average — 
I  should  hope  so.  I  do  not  understand  how  flesh  and 
blood  can  endure  such  changes.  Yet  she  lives  and 
thrives,  and  the  new  servants  come  and  go  at  about  the 
usual  number  per  month.  Her  husband  grew  tired  long 
ago  with  rasping  against  so  much  new  domestic  mate- 
rial, but  has  learned  fortitude  by  practice.  One  or  two 
attempts  to  tell  her  that  there  were  women  who  kept  their 
servants  for  months  and  years  without  change,  and  to 
convince  her  that  it  was  possible  that  there  were  bad 
mistresses  in  the  world  as  well  as  bad  servants,  rfesulted 
in  scenes  which  will  be  avoided  in  the  future.  Not  if  he 
were  to  see  a  procession  of  young  women  entering  his 
house  and  emerging  from  it  through  all  the  weary  year — 
not  if  he  were  to  hear  a  constant  storm  raging  in  the 


68  Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

kitchen  and  echoing  through  the  passages  and  cham- 
bers, would  he  ever  intimate  that  she  was  not  the  para- 
gon of  mistresses  and  that  her  girk  were  not  the  mean- 
est, dirtiest,  sauciest  pot-slewers  that  ever  invaded  an 
abode  of  civilization. 

No,  she  will  hereafter  have  it  all  her  own  way,  with- 
out any  interference  from  him.  He  knows  she  is  in  the 
wrong — and  so  does  she — but  he  will  never  tell  her  so 
again.  On  the  contrary,  he  will  sympathize  with  her 
after  a  fashion,  and  take  her  part  in  all  her  quarrels  and 
all  her  domestic  difficulties  ;  but  he  will  quietly  wish, 
meanwhile,  that  she  had  the  faculty  of  getting  along 
pleasantly  with  her  servants.  I  have  intimated  that  she 
knows  herself  to  be  in  the  wrong.  She  is  not  a  fool.  On 
the  contrary,  she  is  a  very  sharp,  bright  woman,  and  she 
cannot  fail  to  see  that  there  is  a  reason,  somewhere  in 
her  house,  for  her  failure  to  keep  her  servants.  Her 
neighbor  lives  in  the  same  climate  that  she  does.  The 
roof  of  her  house  is  covered  by  slate  from  the  same 
quarry ;  the  Stuart's  stove  is  of  the  same  size  in  the  one 
house  as  in  the  other  ;  the  two  laundries  are  equally 
convenient ;  the  neighbor's  servants  are  no  better  fed 
than  hers  ;  the  wages  are  no  better  ;  but  the  neighbor 
keeps  her  servants  and  she  does  not  keep  hers.  When 
one  of  the  neighbor's  servants  marries,  or  sickens,  or 
for  any  reason,  wishes  to  leave  her,  fifty  others  stand 
ready  to  take  her  place,  and  she  has  her  pick  of  them 
all,  while  Mrs.  Jones  is  obliged  to  take  such  as  come, 


Mrs.   Jessy  Bell  Jones.  69 

and  such  as  feel  compelled  to  come  after  having  heard 
that  she  is  a  hard  mistress.  For  she  must  know  that 
masters  and  mistresses  have  reputations  among  servants 
— reputations  made  up,  and  weighed,  and  widely  known. 
She,  and  a  hundred  other  women  whom  I  know,  have 
bad  reputations  among  servants  ;  and  when  she  deals 
with  them  she  is  always  obliged  to  deal  with  them  under 
the  disadvantages  which  a  bad  reputation  bears  with  it 

Suppose  we  have  a  little  plain  talk  about  these  mat- 
ters, and  see  if  we  cannot  get  an  understanding  of  them. 
Mrs.  Jones  will  pardon  me  if  I  tell  her,  in  the  first  place, 
that  she  is  an  opinionated  person,  which  is  a  mild  way 
of  stating  that,  in  certain  respects,  she  is  very  conceited. 
Her  pet  conceit  is  that  she  is  a  model  housekeeper,  and 
her  opinion  is  that  she  knows  the  best  and  only  proper 
modes  of  doing  the  work  in  her  kitchen,  and  in  her 
house  generally.  She  has  her  way  of  doing  everything. 
She  has  her  particular  order,  in  which  all  things  about 
her  are  to  be  done.  The  machinery  of  her  household 
arrangements,  as  it  exists  in  her  mind,  is  a  perfect 
whole,  and  every  executive  element  that  she  introduces 
into  it  must  adapt  itself  to  that  machinery,  or  it  is  cast 
out  at  once,  or  so  harassed  that  it  casts  itself  out. 
Suppose  a  girl  enters  her  kitchen  who  understands  her 
business,  but  who  has  learned  it  under  another  misttess, 
and  a  different  household  economy.  She  has  learned  to 
do  her  work  in  a  certain  way  and  after  a  certain  order. 
She  has  her  notions  as  well  as  Mrs.  Jones.     It  is  quite 


/O  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

possible  that  those  notions  may  be  in  many  respects 
better  than  those  of  Mrs.  Jones.  Mrs.  Jones  insists, 
however,  from  the  moment  she  enters  her  service,  that 
she  shall  do  her  work  in  her  way.  The  new  mistress 
does  not  wait  to  see  results.  She  does  not  wait  to  see 
how  the  servant  will  succeed  if  left  entirely  to  herself, 
but  she  goes  into  the  kitchen  with  her,  and  superintends 
every  act.  She  gives  her  no  freedom,  encourages  no 
independent  effort ;  she  takes  the  whole  burden  on  her- 
self, and  insists  that  the  servant  shall  be  her  machine. 
When  this  servant  forgets  her  directions,  or  steps  aside 
from  them,  she  is  found  fault  with.  She  soon  tires  of 
this  sort  of  treatment,  and  her  mistress  is  told  to  look 
for  another  girl. 

I  have  said  that  Mrs.  Jones'  pet  conceit  is  that  she  is 
a  model  housekeeper,  and  tried  to  show  that  her  diffi- 
culties with  her  servants  grow  out  of  her  insisting  that 
they  shall  do  everything  in  her  way.  I  think  I  may 
justly  say,  in  addition,  that  there  is  a  certain  sensitive- 
ness of  will  in  her  constitution  which  aggravates  these 
difficulties.  She  is  imperious.  There  is  one  spot  in 
the  world  where  she  has  the  right  to  rule — one  spot 
where  that  will  of  hers  has  the  right  to  assert  itself  and 
make  itself  law.  Perhaps  there  is  no  other  spot  where 
her  will  is  recognized.  Her  house  is  her  only  domain. 
There  she  is  a  queen,  and  she  is  sensitively  alive  to  all 
interference  with  her  prerogatives.  It  frets  her  to  feeJ 
that  there  is  any  other  person  in  the  house  with  a  will, 


Mrs.  Jessy  Bell  Jones.  7 1 

who  has  anything  to  do  or  say  about  her  domestic 
affairs.  She  does  not  feel  that  a  servant  has  a  right  to 
an  independent  opinion  on  any  subject  connected  with 
her  service  ;  and  when  any  such  opinion  finds  practical 
expression,  it  enrages  her.  A  servant  may  feel  that  if 
she  does  her  work  well,  in  the  way  most  convenient  to 
herself,  she  does  all  that  her  mistress  can  reasonably 
claim  ;  but  the  mistress  feels  that  unless  that  work — in 
all  its  modes  and  particulars — has  followed  the  channel 
of  her  will,  she  has  been  insulted  in  her  own  house.  In 
short,  Mrs.  Jones  is  "  touchy,"  and  when  she  is  touched, 
she  scolds,  and  when  she  scolds,  off  goes  her  servant. 
She  has  excellent  pluck,  however.  I  have  never  known 
her  to  lament  the  loss  of  a  servant.  They  were  always 
such  terrible  creatures,  that  she  was  glad  to  get  rid  of 
them.  I  do  not  know  how  she  came  to  be  just  the  sort 
of  mistress  she  is.  She  was  a  very  pleasant  little  girl, 
with  a  sweet  temper.  It  has  really  puzzled  me  to  find 
out  the  reason  for  her  peculiar  development.  I  suppose 
there  must  be  an  "  ugly  streak  "  in  her  somewhere,  but 
she  did  not  show  it  when  she  was  a  child.  Her  hair  is 
red,  I  know  (call  it  golden),  and  the  eye  black  ;  but  the 
hair  is  beautiful  and  soft,  and  the  eye  has  a  world  of 
love  in  it  for  the  man  it  worships  and  for  his  children. 
My  theory  is,  that  every  nature  which  has  any  force  in  it 
will  assert  itself  somewhere,  in  some  form  ;  and  that  if 
it  fails  to  be  recognized  in  society,  it  will  make  itself 
recognized  where  there  are  none  to  dispute  its  claims 


']2  Concerning  the  Jones  Fajnily. 

I  do  not  recall  a  single  famous  housekeeper — with  a 
splendid  faculty  for  getting  rid  of  servants,  and  a  bad 
reputation  among  them — who,  at  the  same  time,  was  a 
woman  widely  recognized  in  society.  If  Mrs.  Bell  Jones 
were  an  acknowledged  power  and  authority  in  the  social 
circle  ;  if  she  were  a  fine  musician,  with  the  opportunity 
to  charm  her  friends  ;  if  she  had  a  high  degree  of  liter- 
ary culture,  and  were  received  everywhere  in  literary 
circles  as  an  ornament  or  an  equal ;  if  she  possessed 
a  recognized  value  out  of  her  house,  or  in  her  parlor, 
beyond  other  women  of  her  class  or  set,  I  think  she 
would  be  content ;  that  her  servants  would  get  along  well 
enough,  and  that  she  would  get  along  well  enough  with 
them.  But  she  has  turned  housekeeper,  and  directed 
all  her  energies  and  all  her  ambitions,  and  all  her  will, 
into  the  channel  of  housekeeping ;  and  woe  to  the  ser- 
vant who  stands  in  her  way  ! 

Under  these  circumstances,  there  are  a  few  practical 
questions  which  it  would  be  well  for  her  to  ask  herself. 
Does  she  feel  that  her  system  of  management  pays  ? 
Does  she  enjoy  these  constant  troubles  with  her  ser- 
vants ?  Does  she  think  her  husband  enjoys  them,  and 
her  irate  or  plaintive  representations  of  them  ?  Does 
she  not  feel  sometimes  as  if  she  would  be  willing  to  give 
a  good  deal  of  m'oney  and  put  herself  to  a  good  deal  of 
trouble  to  get  along  as  smoothly  with  her  girls  as  some 
of  her  neighbors  do  ?  Does  she  wish  or  expect  alwayj 
to  live  the  same  sort  of  life  she  is  living  now  ? 


Mrs.  Jessy  Bell  Jones.  73 

In  making  up  her  answers  to  these  questions,  she 
must  remember  that  any  change  which  may  be  made 
must  begin  with  herself.  If  she  is  really  willing  to  make 
sacrifices  for  the  sake  of  peace  and  perpetuity  in  her 
domestic  arrangements,  she  can  have  both ;  but  she 
will  be  obliged  to  sacrifice  her  will,  and  a  good  many 
of  her  pet  notions  concerning  housekeeping.  If  it  is 
sweeter  to  her  to  have  her  will  than  it  is  to  keep  girls 
steadily  who  will  serve  her  reasonably  well,  why,  of 
course,  that  settles  the  question  ;  though  it  is  doubtful 
whether  she  would  get  so  much  of  her  will  accomplished 
by  sending  them  away  as  she  would  by  keeping  them. 

There  are  certain  facts  that  she  must  take  into  con- 
sideration when  she  hires  a  servant.  The  most  impor- 
tant is,  perhaps,  that  when  she  hires  a  servant  she  does 
not  buy  a  slave.  She  does  not  buy  the  right  to  badger 
and  scold  her,  to  impose  unreasonable  burdens,  or  to 
treat  her  servant  as  if  she  were  only  an  animal.  She  is 
to  remember,  also,  that  there  are  two  sides  to  this  rela- 
tion of  mistress  and  servant.  Labor  is  not  a  drug  in 
this  country,  yet,  thank  Heaven  !  and  it  is  quite  as  im- 
portant to  her  that  she  have  servants,  as  it  is  to  her  girls 
that  they  do  service.  She  and  her  girls  are  under  mu- 
tual obligations  to  treat  each  other  well.  In  England, 
and  on  the  continent,  where  human  life,  owing  to  pecu- 
liar circumstances,  is  in  excess — a  condition  which  can- 
not possibly  exist  in  healthfully  constituted  society — • 
servants  are  born  into  families  often,  and  grow  up  de- 
4 


74  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

pendents,  forever  attached  to  the  family  name  and  in- 
terest. A  good  place  and  a  permanent  one  is  equivalent 
to  treasure  with  them,  and  they  will  make  many  sacri- 
fices to  preserve  it.  Here  it  is  different.  Labor  is 
every^vhere  in  demand,  and  no  girl  ever  steps  out  of 
Mrs.  Jones'  door  without  knowing  that,  within  a  short 
space  of  time,  she  can  easily  find  another  place,  with  a 
chance  at  least  for  better  treatment  than  she  received 
from  her  last  mistress. 

There  is  another  consideration  to  which  I  am  sure 
sufficient  importance  has  not  been  attached.  She  is  a 
Protestant,  as  the  majority  of  Americans  are,  and  she 
knows  that  servants,  who  come  to  her,  and  whom  the 
most  of  us  employ,  are  Catholics.  It  is  notorious  and 
incontrovertible  that  her  servants  are  taught  to  consider 
her  a  heretic — a  person  who  has  no  religion,  and  who  is 
bound  as  directly  for  hell  as  if  she  were  a  murderess.  It 
is  cruel  to  teach  those  ignorant  women  such  horrible 
stuff,  but  they  are  taught  it.  The  Irish  girl  in  Mrs. 
Jones'  kitchen — who  perhaps  does  not  know  her  alphabet, 
who  probably  has  not  the  first  idea  of  the  vital  truths 
of  Christianity — regards  her  and  the  whole  community 
of  American  Protestants  with  contempt,  as  the  accursed 
of  God,  and  of  those  whom  she  supposes  to  be  his 
representatives  on  the  earth.  She  has  been  bred  to  this 
opinion,  and  it  may  be  the  only  really  strong  opinion 
she  has  in  her  mind.  She  has  no  doubt  that  a  drunken, 
profane,  lying  scoundrel,  if  he   is  only  in  the  Catholic 


Mrs.  Jessy  Bell  Jones.  75 

Church,  has  a  better  chance  for  heaven  than  the  purest 
Protestant  that  hves,  because  she  has  been  taught  from 
childhood  that  there  is  no  salvation  out  of  "  the 
Church."  Now,  I  say  that  women  thus  bred  cannot 
possibly  entertain  such  a  degree  of  respect  for  Mrs. 
Jones  that  they  will  take  patiently  her  style  of  treat- 
ment. It  is  notorious  that  they  receive,  even  with  ab- 
ject humility,  indignities  from  masters  and  mistresses 
belonging  to  their  church,  while  they  exact  from  Protes- 
tants the  last  ounce  of  that  which  is  their  due  as  Chris- 
tian women.  I  do  not  complain  of  this  particularly,  but 
I  allude  to  it  to  show  that  Mrs.  Jones,  and  every  Protes- 
tant mistress  in  America,  must  necessarily  labor  under 
disadvantages  in  the  management  of  servants. 

There  is  still  another  consideration  which  she  and 
all  other  mistresses  should  make,  which  is,  that  all 
girls  who  are  good  for  anything  must  do  their  work  in 
their  own  way,  or  not  do  it  well.  One  of  the  hardest 
things  in  this  world,  for  any  person  who  has  brains  and 
the  power  to  use  them,  is  to  do  another  person's  work 
in  another  person's  way.  To  most  persons  the  attempt 
to  do  this  is  always  disgusting,  and  often  distressing. 
It  is  only  hacks  and  blockheads  that  can  possibly  sub- 
mit themselves  to  the  degradation  which  such  a  service 
involves.  We  must  always  be  content  with  these,  or 
we  must  have  servants  who  have  some  notions  and  ways 
of  their  own.  A  servant  may  be  a  very  humble  person, 
but  she  has  her  will,  and  her  pride,  and  her  desire  to  be 


"6  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

somebody  in  her  place,  just  as  much  as  her  mistress 
has  ;  and  she  will  not  sell  her  right  to  entertain  an  opin- 
ion and  have  her  way  in  the  little  details  of  her  service, 
for  a  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents  a  week,  to  anybody. 
I  must  confess  that  I  sympathize  with  her  in  this  matter. 
Among  her  servants  she  may  reasonably  require  results 
economically  attained  ;  but  all  that  exactness  which  in- 
sists on  dusting  a  piano  from  the  north  to  the  south,  or 
prescribes  the  whole  routine  of  a  kitchen  to  its  minu- 
test particulars,  and  vigilantly  maintains  it,  is  an  insult 
and  a  hardship,  and  is  certain  to  be  regarded  and 
treated  as  such  by  every  servant  who  is  good  for  any- 
thing. 

Now,  if  Mrs.  Jones  is  willing  to  entertain  all  these  con- 
siderations, she  can  have  servants  and  keep  them.  If  she 
is  willing  to  consider  that  her  servant  is  not  a  slave,  and 
has  a  right  to  the  treatment  due  to  a  rational  woman ; 
that  she  has  no  right  to  harass  a  servant  with  her 
notions  or  her  petulancies  ;  that  she  is  under  as  strong 
an  obligation  to  treat  the  servant  well  as  the  servant  is 
to  treat  her  well ;  that  the  latter  has  been  bred  to  con- 
sider her  a  heretic — one  for  whom  God  has  no  respect 
and  Heaven  no  home  ;  that  it  is  in  the  nature  of  things 
impossible  for  a  really  capable  and  good  servant  to  do 
her  work  cheerfully  and  well  when  she  is  required  to  do 
it  in  a  way  not  her  own  ;  that  in  this  world  of  imperfec- 
tion there  are  some  things  that  will  be  unpleasant  "  in 
the  best  regulated  families ; "    that  it  is  better  to  en- 


Mrs.  Jessy  Bell  Jones.  "jy 

joy  peace  generally,  than  to  have  one's  will  in  unim- 
portant particulars — I  say  that  if  Mrs.  Jones  is  willing 
to  consider  all  these  things,  I  do  not  see  why  she  may 
not  keep  her  servants  as  long  as  other  people,  and  have 
just  as  good  a  time  with  them. 

It  will  be  very  hard  for  Mrs.  Jones  to  break  into  this 
thing,  and  I  know  of  but  one  way  for  her  to  proceed. 
Let  her  get  a  new  cook — the  best  she  can  find — and 
promise  to  pay  her  good  wages.  Then  let  her  hold  up 
her  right  hand  and  swear,  in  the  presence  of  her  husband 
(who  will  record  her  oath  with  unaffected  delight),  that 
she  will  not  enter  her  kitchen  for  a  month,  unless  it  be 
to  praise  some  particular  dish,  or  tell  the  cook  how 
nicely  everything  looks  in  her  domain.  At  the  end  of 
the  month  she  will  have  learned  that  cooking  can  be 
carried  on  in  her  family  without  her  help,  that  her  cook 
is  contented  and  pleased,  that  she  is  happier  than  she 
has  been  for  ten  years,  that  she  has  more  time  for  read- 
ing and  dressing  and  visiting,  and  that  the  inconveni- 
ences attending  a  course  like  this  are  much  less  than 
those  which  have  thus  far  accompanied  her  housekeep- 
ing life.  I  would  not  prescribe  constant  absence  from 
the  kitchen  as  the  only  safe  course  for  all  ;  I  simply  say 
it  is  the  only  safe  course  for  Mrs.  Jones.  After  a  few 
months  shall  have  passed  away,  and  she  shall  have  come 
to  love  her  new  way  of  life,  it  will  be  safe  for  her  to  take 
a  general  oversight  of  her  kitchen  again.  She  must  run, 
however,  whenever  she  feels  the  old  fever  coming  on. 


yS  Concerning  tJie  Jones  Family. 

Did  Mrs.  Jones  ever  think  how  easy  it  would  be  to  change 
her  pretty  name — "Jessy  Bell"  —  into  Jezebel?  It 
would  be  just  as  easy  to  transform  her  pretty  nature 
into  one  which  that  name  alone  would  fitly  represent. 
I  do  not  account  her  one  of  those  women,  possessed 
with  the  devil  of  neatness,  who  are  as  much  the  horror 
of  husband  and  children  as  of  servants.  She  is  not  even 
one  of  those  women  (from  whom  the  gods  defend  me 
and  mine  !)  to  whom  the  vision  of  a  speck  of  dirt  is  the 
cause  of  a  convulsion  and  the  inspiration  of  a  lecture 
which  would  frighten  anything  but  a  clod  out  of  the 
house.  Mysterious  are  the  ways  of  women.  There  be 
women  who  take  delight  in  being  miserable  and  mak- 
ing others  so  ;  who  can  scold,  or  cry,  or  howl,  or  spit 
fire  ;  who  would  not  be  happy  if  they  could  be ;  who 
badger  everybody — implacable,  unreasonable,  abomi- 
nable women,  from  whom  all  gentle  womanhood  has  de- 
parted. There  be  such  women  as  these,  I  say,  and 
everybody  has  seen  them.  Will  Mrs.  Jones  permit  me 
to  tell  her  that  she  is  in  great  danger  of  becoming  one 
of  them  ?  It  is  not  hard  for  a  woman  in  her  circum- 
stances, who  has  set  up  for  a  model  housekeeper,  with 
a  sensitive  will  and  a  determination  to  have  everything 
her  own  way,  to  neglect  the  cultivation  of  those  good- 
nesses and  graces  which  keep  her  spirit  soft,  and  keep 
it  in  sympathy  with  those  who  love  her. 

The   secret  of  living  comfortably  in  this  world  con- 
sists in  making  the  best  of  such  unpleasant  things  as 


Mrs.  Jessy  Bell  Jones,  79 

cannot  be  avoided.  It  is  necessary  to  have  servants, 
and  it  is  necessary  to  obtain  servants  from  what  is 
called  the  lowest  class  of  life.  They  are  not  a  very  trust- 
worthy class  of  people,  but  they  have  in  them  the  labor 
that  we  want  and  must  have.  The  question  simply  is 
whether,  under  the  circumstances,  Mrs.  Jones  will  make 
herself  and  her  husband  miserable  by  insisting  on  that 
which  she  has  never  yet  succeeded  in  getting — perfect 
servants — the  perfect  slaves  of  her  will — or  whether  she 
will  get  the  best  servants  she  can,  make  allowances  for 
their  shortcomings,  and  put  up  with  their  imperfect  ser- 
vice for  the  sake  of  peace.  The  way  in  which  she  an- 
swers this  question  will  determine  everything  concerning 
the  comfort  of  her  home-life,  and  much  concerning  her 
own  personal  character.  The  best  way  for  her  is  to 
confess— to  herself,  at  least — that  she  has  been  all  in  the 
wrong,  and  to  change  her  entire  policy.  Let  her  turn 
her  energies  in  some  other  direction.  Let  her  be  as 
good  a  housekeeper  as  she  can  under  the  circumstan- 
ces, and  be  content  with  such  modest  attainments  as 
servants  moderately  intelligent  and  immoderately  inde- 
pendent will  permit.  Thus  will  Mrs.  Jessy  Bell  Jones 
live  long  and  comfortably  on  the  earth,  rejoicing  the 
hearts  of  her  husband  and  children,  enjoying  a  good 
reputation  among  the  class  on  which  she  must  depend 
for  service,  taking  comfort  in  lady-like  pursuits,  and 
avoiding  the  imminent  danger  in  which  she  stands  of 
becoming  "  Mrs.  Jezebel  Jones." 


SALATHIAL   FOGG  JONES. 

CONCERNING  THE  FAITH  AND  PROSPECTS  OF  HIS 
SECT  OF  RELIGIONISTS. 

SALATHIAL  FOGG  JONES  happened  to  be  one  of 
the  men  ordained  from  the  foundation  of  the  world 
to  be  a  Spiritualist.  There  are  many  unlike  him  who 
are  Spiritualists,  but  there  are  none  like  him  who  are 
not.  He  has  all  that  natural  love  of  what  is  novel  and 
marvellous,  and  that  peculiar  mixture  of  credulity  and 
scepticism,  and  that  perverse  disposition  to  run  against 
the  feelings  and  prejudices  of  the  people,  which  would 
lead  him  to  embrace  Spiritualism.  Wherever  I  find  a 
man  who  possesses  his  particular  nature  and  character, 
I  always  find  a  Spiritualist ;  for,  if  Spiritualism  does  not 
come  to  him,  he  goes  to  it.  Mr.  Jones  was  a  Fourierite 
when  I  first  knew  him,  and  he  rode  the  hobby  of  Fou- 
rierism  until  he  rode  it  to  death.  Every  *'ism"  that 
has  been  started  for  the  last  twenty  years  has  numbered 
him  among  its  champions.  He  was  a  zealous  abolition- 
ist until  abolitionism  became  popular,  and  then,  without 
turning  against  it,  he  seemed  to  lose  his  interest  in  it. 


Salathial  Fogg  Jones.  8i 

When  Spiritualism  made  its  appearance,  I  knew  that  he 
would  be  a  Spiritualist  as  well  as  I  knew  that  "fire 
ascending,  seeks  the  sun."  It  was  the  natural  thing  for 
him. 

I  was  not  at  all  surprised,  therefore,  when  he  caught 
me  by  the  button-hole  one  day,  at  the  corner  of  a  street, 
and  announced  to  me  the  conviction  that  he  could 
demonstrate  the  immortality  of  the  human  soul.  He 
may,  perhaps,  remember  the  smile  which  his  announce- 
ment excited.  I  confess  that  it  amused  me.  He  seemed 
as  interested  and  pleased  about  the  matter  as  if  he  had 
never  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  immortality  before.  A 
book  had  been  in  his  hands  ever  since  he  could  read, 
that  told  him  all  about  it.  A  belief  in  this  immortality 
had  incorporated  itself  into  the  constitution  and  govern- 
ments of  all  the  powerful  nations  of  the  world ;  had 
moulded  civilization — nay,  had  created  civilization  out  of 
barbarism ;  had  introduced  into  society  its  highest  mo- 
tives and  its  most  purifying  elements ;  had  sustained 
the  courage  and  inspired  the  hope  of  multitudes  of 
dying  saints  and  martyrs  through  all  ages ;  had  sur- 
rounded him  through  all  his  life  with  the  evidences  of  its 
vitality,  and  yet,  he  had  but  just  satisfied  himself  on  the 
question,  by  means  of  unaccountable  raps  on  a  table,  in 
the  dark,  which,  through  a  little  assistance  of  his  own, 
had  spelled  out,  in  bad  orthography  and  worse  syntax, 
an  insignificant  sentence  !  Here  was  a  moral  force  that 
had  moved  the  world,  yet  it  had  never  moved  him.  He 
4* 


82  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

— wiser,  more  acute,  less  credulous,  less  superstitious- 
had  waited  to  see  a  table  dance  before  he  could  believe 
in  that  realm  of  spiritual  things  which  has  hung  over  and 
embraced  him  ever  since  he  was  born,  and  which  has 
always  had  a  representative  in  his  own  bosom. 

This  has  been  one  of  the  marvels  of  these  latter-day 
developments  in  spiritualism  ;  that  men  who  have  been 
sceptical  on  all  cognate  subjects,  and  have  resisted  all 
the  moral  and  spiritual  evidences  of  immortality — re- 
sisted all  the  evidences  germane  to  the  subject — have 
bowed  like  bulrushes  before  the  proofs  that  come  to 
them  from  a  mysteriously  played  banjo  or  a  comman- 
place  message,  pretended  to  be  rapped  out  by  a  friend 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  It  took  Materialism  to 
prove  Spiritualism  to  these  very  acute  men ;  and  they 
thought  that,  because  they  had  seen  matter  moved  by 
spirit,  or  what  they  supposed  to  be  spirit,  they  had 
made  a  prodigious  advance.  They  have  been  floored 
by  proofs  that  do  not  add  a  hair's  weight  to  the  faith  of 
any  genuine  Christian  in  the  world.  They  think  that 
they  have  made  a  discovery,  and  that  Christians  are 
afraid  of  it,  when  the  truth  is  that  they  have  made  no 
discovery  whatever,  and  that  Christians  are  above  it. 
The  proofs  of  spirituality  and  of  immortality,  to  be 
found  in  what  is  called  Spiritualism,  are  the  grossest 
that  can  possibly  be  produced,  supposing  them  to  be 
genuine.  They  are  proofs  that  deal  with  matter  exclu- 
sively, and  appeal  to  the  commonest  and  lowest  order 


Sal  at  hi al  Fogg  Jones.  83 

of  minds.  It  is  Mr.  Jones  himself  who  is  behind  the 
age,  and  not  the  Christians  at  whose  faith  he  scoffs, 
simply  because  he  is  not  up  to  it  and  cannot  appreciate 
it.  He  receives  a  little  thing  because  he  is  not  sufficient 
to  receive  a  large  one. 

I  do  not  intend,  in  the  few  words  which  I  propose  to 
Bay  to  him,  to  undertake  the  overthrow  of  his  proofs  of 
Spiritualism.  I  am  willing,  indeed,  to  confess  that  I 
have  witnessed,  among  much  that  was  undoubtedly  the  re- 
sult of  deception  and  jugglery,  phenomena  which  Icould 
not  rationally  account  for  by  any  other  theory  than  that 
which  assigns  to  them  a  spiritual  origin.  But  those 
phenomena  have  never  contributed  anything  to  my  con- 
viction that  I  am  immortal,  and  that  there  is  a  realm  of 
spiritual  existence  which  holds  the  product  of  unnum- 
bered worlds  and  the  history  of  an  eternity.  They  have 
never  made  so  much  as  a  ripple  on  the  surface  of  my 
faith.  Their  apparent  aim  has  been  so  limited,  many 
of  them  have  been  so  low  and  frivolous,  some  of  them 
have  been  so  vicious,  and  all  have  had  so  much  more  to 
do  with  matter  than  with  spirit,  or  with  spiritual  truth, 
that  they  have  never  seemed  worthy  for  an  instant  to 
have  any  consideration  as  parts  of  any  religious  system 
or  as  opponents  of  any  religious  system.  It  is  an  insult  to 
common  sense,  no  less  than  an  offence  against  decency, 
to  compare  the  conglomerate  trash  which  has  been  is- 
sued as  the  teachings  of  the  spirits,  with  Christianity 
as  a  system  of  religion  ;  and  it  is  simply  impossible  for 


84  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

a  true  and  hearty  Christian  to  accept,  in  place  of  his 
faith,  the  peepings  and  the  mutterings  of  a  pack  of  lying 
demons,  whose  deceptions  and  tricks  are  acknowledged 
by  their  best  friends. 

The  rule  which  the  Author  of  Christianity  announced, 
and  which  the  common  judgment  of  the  world  has 
endorsed — that  a  tree  is  known  by  its  fruits — is  one 
which  it  is  now  proper  to  apply  to  Spiritualism.  Thirty 
years  have  passed  since  the  new  sect  made  its  first  batch 
of  proselytes.  It  is  time  to  be  looking  for  the  fruit  of 
this  tree,  which,  at  the  beginning,  was  declared  to  be 
so  full  of  golden  promise.  I  would  like  to  ask  Mr.  Jones 
if  he  has  found  Spiritualism  particularly  nourishing  to 
himself.  Is  he  a  better  man  than  he  was  thirty  years 
ago  ?  How  much  progress  has  he  really  made  toward 
spirituality?  How  much  more  devout  is  his  worship 
of  the  Great  God  than  it  was  before  he  was  convinced 
of  the  immortality  of  his  own  soul  ?  How  much  have 
his  affections  been  purified,  his  love  of  spiritual  things 
strengthened,  his  lust  for  sensual  things  diminished,  by 
this  new  faith  of  his  ?  Has  his  sense  of  moral  obliga- 
tion grown  stronger  ?  Has  his  benevolence  increased  ? 
Has  his  love  of  all  that  is  good  and  pure  grown  brighter, 
while  the  sensual  delights  of  his  animal  life  have  faded  ? 
These  are  important  questions  to  him,  and  they  are  very 
important  questions  to  Spiritualism  itself. 

I  must  be  plain  with  him,  and  tell  him  that  if  Spiritual- 
ism has  improved  him,  I  have  failed  to  see  it.     I  do  not 


Salathial  Fogg  Jones.  85 

see  that  he  has  even  made  any  progress  intellectually. 
He  pretends  that  Spiritualism  reveals  great  truths,  in 
which  abide  the  seeds  of  progress  and  perfection  for  a 
race,  but  these  seeds  do  not  germinate  in  him.  On  the 
contrary,  he  seems  content  to  stand  on  the  threshold  of 
his  new  religion,  and  to  amuse  himself  with  the  same  In- 
significant phenomena  which  first  attracted  his  attention. 
I  hear  of  his  holding  weekly,  or  semi-weekly,  seances  or 
"  circles"  where  there  are  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  play- 
ing of  guitars,  and  the  scraping  of  fiddles,  and  the  tipping 
of  tables,  and  the  rubbing  of  faces,  and  the  rapping  of 
knuckles.  It  is  the  same  old  story  of  a  sort  of  frolic  or 
orgy  with  demons,  and  no  step  forward  into  a  divine  life. 
As  it  is  with  him,  so  it  is  with  all  whom  I  have  seen.  I 
will  not  speak  of  the  immoralities  to  which  Spiritualism 
has  given  birth.  Free  Love  is  not  a  plant  indigenous  to 
Spiritualism.  It  starts  in  human  nature,  and  grows  wher- 
ever there  is  license.  The  doctrine  of  "affinities "is 
as  old  as  the  race,  and  has  found  its  advocates  among 
the  beastly  of  all  races  and  the  bad  of  all  religions.  I 
will  not  speak  of  the  immoralities  which  have  been  asso- 
ciated with  Spiritualism,  because  they  are  not  peculiar 
to  it  ;  but  I  say  that  I  cannot  perceive  that  Mr.  Jones 
has  made  the  slightest  progress  intellectually — he  or  his 
friends.  He  has  always  been  busy  with  these  little  ma- 
terial phenomena,  which  have  no  more  spiritual  signifi- 
cance or  vitality  in  them  than  there  is  in  the  grunts  that 
come  from  a  pig-sty — not  half  as  much  as  there  is  In  a 


86  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

concert  by  Christy's  minstrels.  Has  Spiritualism  nothing 
more  in  it  for  him  than  this  ?  Is  this  the  highest  food  it 
has  to  offer  him  ?  Why,  he  ought  to  be  intellectually  a 
giant  by  this  time.  With  immortality  demonstrated  to 
him,  in  daily  communion  with  the  spiritual  world,  with 
visions  clarified  of  all  errors  and  superstitions,  he  ought 
to  have  made  advances  which  would  prove  to  an  incredu- 
lous world  that  Spiritualism  has  in  it  seeds,  at  least,  of 
the  intellectual  millennium.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me 
to  tell  him  that  he  has  done  no  such  thing.  He  has  been 
mixed  up  with  two  or  three  fanciful  schemes  for  social 
improvement,  that  have  not  had  enough  of  vitality  in 
them  to  preserve  them  from  quick  degeneration,  and 
these  schemes  have  absorbed  all  his  spiritual  activities. 
Indeed,  I  think  these  "seances"  have  been  rather  dis- 
sipating than  edifying  to  him. 

Literature  has  always  been  the  record  and  the  gauge 
of  every  form  of  civilization,  every  system  of  philosophy, 
and  every  scheme  of  religion ;  and  nothing  is  more  cer- 
tain than  that  any  religion  which  possesses  vitality  will 
permeate  and  reform  all  the  literature  associated  with  it, 
and  create  for  itself  a  literature  which  is  especially  the 
product  of  its  life.  Thus,  with  the  Bible  for  its  basis, 
Christianity  has  created  a  literature  of  its  own.  An 
Alexandrian  library  could  not  contain  the  books  which 
cluster  around  the  Bible,  deriving  from  it  their  sole  in- 
spiration and  significance,  and  receiving  from  it  all  their 
power,  while  there  is  not  a  book  written  within  the  pale 


Salathial  Fogg  Jones.  87 

of  Christian  civilization  which  is  not  modified  by  it. 
And  literature  is  but  one  of  the  forms  of  art  in  which 
the  Christian  religion  betrays  the  vitality  of  its  central 
truths  and  ideas.  There  is  hardly  a  department  of 
painting  and  sculpture  and  architecture  that  does  not 
have  reference,  at  some  point,  to  it,  while  many  of  its 
departments  are  its  direct  outgrowth  and  offspring.  It 
is  time  that  Spiritualism,  if  it  possesses  such  claims  and 
powers  as  are  ascribed  to  it,  should  make  its  mark  on 
literature  and  art.     Has  it  done  so  ? 

I  think  Mr.  Jones  cannot  fail  to  regard  the  literature 
that  has  been  the  direct  and  immediate  outgrowth  of 
Spiritualism  as,  on  the  whole,  of  an  exceedingly  frivo- 
lous, weak,  and  unworthy  character.  Spiritualism  has 
undertaken  to  deal  with  almost  all  forms  of  literary  art. 
It  has  put  forth  orations,  philosophical  disquisitions, 
revelations  concerning  the  unseen  world,  prophesies  of 
future  events,  and  poetry.  These  productions  purport 
to  come  from  the  spirits  of  departed  men  and  women, 
who  assume  to  speak  from  actual  knowledge  acquired 
in  the  realm  of  spiritual  things.  The  least  that  can  be 
assumed  by  the  Spiritualist  is  that  these  utterances  are 
the  products  of  minds  purified  and  exalted  by  freedom 
from  the  grosser  animal  life  into  which  they  were  origi- 
nally born,  strengthened  and  invigorated  by  direct  con- 
tact with  spiritual  truth,  and  inspired  by  the  vision  of 
those  realities  of  which  we  can  only  form,  through  guess 
and  conjecture,  the  faintest  idea.     I  say  that  this  is  the 


88  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

least  that  can  be  assumed  by  the  SpirituaHst  It  is 
the  least  that  is  assumed  by  him,  or  any  of  his  associ- 
ates, concerning  the  utterances  of  his  best  spiritual  cor- 
respondents ;  yet  I  defy  him  to  point  me  to  a  single 
oration  originating  in  his  circles  that  can  compare  with 
those  of  Webster,  or  Burke,  or  Everett  ;  a  single  philo- 
sophical discourse  that  betrays  the  brains  of  a  Bacon  ;  a 
single  revelation  of  the  unseen  world  that  can  compare 
with  that  of  John  ;  or  a  single  poem  that  is  not  surpassed 
many  times  by  many  poems  from  the  pen  of  the  lament- 
ed Mrs.  Browning.  The  Spiritualist  is  lame  in  every 
field  in  which,  in  accordance  with  his  theories  of  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  progress,  he  should  walk  with  kingly 
strides.  He  cannot  hold  in  contempt  the  literary  judg- 
ments of  the  world ;  and  the  literary  judgments  of  the 
world  are  against  him.  It  is  the  decided  opinion  of 
those  whose  opinions  he  is  bound  to  respect  that  his 
theories  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  progress  beyond  the 
grave  are  shockingly  disproved  by  the  products  of  the 
minds  which  pretend  to  address  us  from  it.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  literature  of  Spiritualism  which,  in  power 
and  beauty,  and  practical  adaptation  to  the  Avants  of 
men,  and  skilful  use  of  language,  can  compare  with  the 
literature  written  before  Spiritualism  made  its  first  rap. 
Does  any  one  doubt  it  ?  Look  at  the  alcoves  of  the 
scholars  and  poets  of  the  world,  and  mark  the  shelves 
which  the  classics  of  the  Spiritualists  occupy.  They  are 
not  there  at  all,  and  their  absence  is  owing  to  the  simple 


Salathial  Fogg  Jones.  89 

fact  that  they  are  not  worthy  to  be  there.  Literature  is 
catholic.  Literary  men  are  not  particular  as  to  the 
source  from  which  great  thoughts  come,  and  they  will 
gather  where  they  find  them.  They  have  not  found 
them  in  the  literature  of  Spiritualism.  I  state  this  as  Ji 
fact,  which  he  cannot  deny,  and  I  appeal  to  the  literary 
men  of  the  world  as  my  witnesses. 

In  the  degree  by  which  Spiritualism  has  failed  to  pro- 
duce a  worthy  literature  of  its  own,  has  it  failed  to  in- 
corporate itself  as  a  vital  force  into  any  literature.  In  a 
few  English  novels  we  have  seen  evidences  of  its  pres- 
ence, but  even  there  it  has  furnished  only  machinery 
for  mysteries,  and  not  ideas  for  life.  No  poet  of  power 
has  gone  to  it  for  his  inspirations.  While  many  literati 
have  been  attracted  to  its  marvels,  and  not  a  small 
number  of  them  have  acknowledged  their  faith  in  the 
genuineness  of  its  "  manifestations,"  it  finds  no  record 
in  the  characteristic  products  of  their  pens.  And  now, 
in  view  of  all  these  facts,  I  declare  my  full  conviction 
that  Spiritualism,  notwithstanding  all  its  high  preten- 
sions and  its  ambitious  efforts,  has  imported  no  new  in- 
tellectual food  into  the  world,  and  brought  no  increment 
to  its  intellectual  life.  Has  heaven  been  open,  to  scat- 
ter crumbs  and  broken  victuals  to  children  already  fed 
with  bread  from  the  tree  of  a  nobler  life  ?  Have  the 
dead  come  back  to  prove  that  they  have  only  made 
progress  toward  imbecility  and  idiocy  ?  Have  the 
angels  of  God  forgotten  to  be  wise,  and  the  saints  of 


QO  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

God  learned  to  be  silly  ?  Is  a  religion,  or  a  system  ol 
philosophy,  or  a  revelation  of  whatever  character,  good 
for  anything,  or  worthy  of  a  moment's  consideration, 
which  gives  nothing  greater  and  more  abounding  in  vi- 
tality than  what  we  have  had  before — nothing  great  and 
vital  enough  to  create  a  literature  of  its  own  which  will 
command  the  respect  of  the  world  and  find  its  way 
through  various  channels  of  life  into  all  literature  ?  Mr. 
Jones  has  common  sense — or  he  used  to  have  it.  He 
may  answer  the  question. 

I  remember  very  well  the  boast  that  he  and  his  friends 
made  a  few  years  ago,  that  the  world  was  about  to  wit- 
ness a  new  dispensation,  through  the  ministry  and  reve- 
lation of  Spiritualism.  We  had  outgrown  Christianity, 
as  the  world  once  outgrew  Judaism,  they  declared  ;  and 
so,  burning  up  our  soiled  and  worn-out  creeds,  and  cast- 
ing off  the  clothing  of  the  Christian  church,  which  had 
grown  too  strait  for  us,  we  were  to  emerge  into  a 
brighter  light  and  a  freer  and  nobler  life.  Well,  have 
their  boasts  proved  to  be  well-grounded  ?  They  must 
not  complain  that  I  ask  them  this  question,  and  say  that 
I  do  not  give  them  time  enough,  or  refer  me  to  the  diffi- 
culty of  the  early  steps  of  Christianity.  There  was  no 
steamboat,  no  railroad,  no  telegraph,  no  universal  news- 
paper, no  printing-press,  to  wait  upon  the  early  steps  of 
Christianity.  The  first  wail  in  the  little  village  of  Beth- 
lehem that  gave  notice  of  the  advent  of  The  Redeemer 
did  not  reach  outside  of  the  walls  of  the  stable  where  he 


Salathial  Fogg  Jones.  91 

lay  ;  but  through  the  ministry  of  modern  art — itself  the 
child  of  Bethlehem's  child — the  first  rap  at  Rochester 
was  heard  throughout  the  nation.  Every  appliance  of 
Christian  civilization  has  waited  upon  the  early  steps  of 
Spiritualism,  and  within  fifteen  years  it  has  been  sown 
wherever  steam  and  lightning  can  travel,  and  men  can 
read  the  language  which  they  speak.  It  has  been  free 
ever  since  to  do  what  it  would.  It  has  published  what 
it  would.  Prisons  and  scaffolds  have  not  threatened 
those  who  received  and  entertained  and  advocated  it. 
It  has  been  patronized  by  the  fashionable  and  the  ti- 
tled. Royalty  itself  has  lent  its  eyes  and  ears  to  its  mar- 
vels, and  petted  the  mediums  through  whom  they  were 
wrought.  It  has  been  brought  fairly  before  the  world, 
and  now,  what  is  to  be  said  of  the  results  ? 

Preliminarily,  is  it  making  progress  to-day  ?  Does  it 
occupy  as  large  a  place  in  the  public  mind  of  this  coun- 
try and  of  other  countries  as  it  did  some  years  ago  ?  Is 
it  winning  as  many  proselytes  as  it  was  winning  ten 
years  ago  ?  Has  it  not  already  called  to  itself  its  own, 
and  ceased  to  be  aggressive  ?  Is  it  not  already  dying 
from  lack  of  power  to  nourish  and  bless  those  who  have 
been  attracted  to  it  ?  It  is  probable  that  Mr.  Jones 
would  not  answer  these  questions  as  I  should  ;  yet  it 
seems  to  me  as  if  there  could  be  but  one  answer  to 
them.  I  know  that,  as  far  as  my  acquaintance  reaches. 
Spiritualism  is  making  neither  proselytes  nor  progress, 
and  that  many  of  those  who  were  once  its  most  ear- 


92  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

nest  defenders  have  grown  cold  toward  it,  or  careless  of 
it.  It  has  shown  no  power  to  fertilize  society,  arid  no 
disposition  to  organize  society  for  philanthropic  effort. 
It  has  originated  a  few  Utopian  schemes  and  promised 
great  things  for  human  harmony  and  happiness  ;  but 
they  have  fallen  to  pieces,  of  their  own  dead  weight, 
light  and  flimsy  as  they  were.  I  cannot  point  to  anything 
that  Spiritualism  is  really  doing  to  purify,  elevate,  and 
save  mankind.  I  cannot  find  in  it  that  principle  of  love 
which  uproots  selfishness,  or  leads  the  martyr  to  dare 
his  death  of  fire. 

Now,  where  is  the  efifete  Christianity  which  was  to  be 
displaced  by  Spiritualism  ?  There  never  was  an  equal 
period  in  its  history  when  it  made  more  progress  than 
it  has  made  since  Spiritualism  was  announced.  The 
greatest  revival  the  world  ever  saw  occurred  during  that 
period.  It  has  planted  its  feet  in  new  fields,  and  is 
everywhere  aggressive.  This  Spiritualism  which  was 
to  supersede  it,  has  hardly  been  a  fly  in  the  path  of  its 
gigantic  progress.  It  is  pushing  its  silent,  individual 
conquests,  and  organizing  its  forces  in  the  wilds  of  the 
West,  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  in  Australia,  and 
among  the  heathen  nations  of  the  world.  It  is  gaining 
new  victories  near  the  centres  of  its  power.  It  gives 
no  sign  of  decay.  It  is  more  and  more  recognized  as  the 
grand,  saving  and  reforming  power  of  the  world — as  a 
religion  to  live  by  and  die  by.  It  finds  its  way  into  gov- 
ernmental institutions.      It  more  and   more   pervades 


SalatJiial  Fogg  Jones.  93 

every  kind  of  literature,  and  it  is  legitimate  to  declare 
that  there  is  not  a  good  thing  in  Spiritualism  that  Chris- 
tianity had  not  previously  promulgated. 

There  are  some  Spiritualists  who  deny  that  Spirit- 
ualism opposes  Christianity.  Indeed,  there  are  some 
among  them  who  claim  that  they  are  really  the  only 
enlightened  Christians  in  the  world,  Spiritualism  having 
interpreted  Christianity  to  them.  I  am  sure  Mr.  Jones 
is  too  honest  to  tell  me  this,  because  he  has  talked  very 
differently  to  me  many  times.  He  knows  that  if  Spirit- 
ualism is  not  in  opposition  to  Christianity  as  a  system 
of  religion  and  salvation,  there  is  nothing  in  it  whatever. 
He  knows,  and  so  do  his  friends,  that  Spiritualism  is 
at  least  in  opposition  to  that  form  of  Christianity  which 
prevails  in  the  world,  and  which  marks  its  progress  by 
such  marvellous  evidences  of  its  vitality  and  power. 

Mr.  Salathial  Fogg  Jones  is  eating  husks  when  he 
might  have  corn.  I  beg  him  to  cut  the  delusion  loose, 
for  it  is  a  dying  thing.  There  is  nothing  more  in  it  for 
him  or  for  the  world — ^no  more  food,  nor  inspiration, 
nor  light,  nor  life,  nor  blessing.  All  the  good  fellows 
are  going  my  way.    Let  him  come  and  join  me  I 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN  JONES, 

MECHANIC. 

CONCERNING    HIS   HABITUAL    ABSENCE    FROM 
CHURCH  ON  SUNDA  Y. 

I  HAVE  often  wondered  why  Benjamin  Franklin  Jones, 
and  many  others  who  are  engaged  in  mechanical 
pursuits,  should  be  so  sceptical  in  all  matters  lying  out- 
side of  the  domain  of  material  things.  There  seems  to 
be  something  in  the  constitution  of  the  mechanical 
mind,  or  something  in  the  nature  of  mechanical  pur- 
suits, which  tends  to  infidelity.  It  is  notorious,  that  as 
a  class,  the  mechanics  of  this  country,  and  particularly 
those  who  are  engaged  in  such  branches  as  call  for  the 
most  ingenuity  and  skill,  are  given  to  unbelief.  I  can- 
not explain  this.  I  see  the  fact  as  it  exists  in  manufac- 
turing communities  and  in  the  large  cities,  and  am 
entirely  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it.  Why  it  is  that  con- 
stant dealing  with  the  laws  of  matter  and  second  causes 
should  so  induce  materialism,  and  so  hide  the  great 
first  cause,  I  do  not  know.  I  only  know  that  the  coldest 
infidels  I  have  ever  known — men  the  most  utterly  faith- 


Benjamin  Franklin  Jones.  95 

less  in  spiritual  things — men  sceptical  on  all  subjects 
which  touch  religion,  and  immortality,  and  revelation, 
and  God — are  mechanics,  and  there  seems  to  be  some- 
thing in  their  pursuits,  or  in  their  mental  constitution, 
which  makes  them  so. 

The  number  of  these  men  in  every  New  England 
community  is  large.  We  are  a  manufacturing  people, 
and  the  best  and  most  influential  minds  in  nearly  all 
our  manufacturing  towns  are  those  of  mechanics.  I 
have  been  surprised  at  the  contempt  in  which  religion 
and  its  institutions  are  held  in  some  New  England  towns 
where  it  is  supposed  that  both  are  honored  in  an  unusual 
degree.  The  truth  is  that,  throughout  New  England, 
not  more  than  one-third  of  the  people  go  to  church,  or 
have  anything  to  do  with  its  support,  and  that  third  is 
very  largely  composed  of  farmers  and  merchants.  The 
mechanical  and  manufacturing  interests,  notwithstand- 
ing their  magnitude,  contribute  comparatively  little 
to  the  maintenance  of  the  institutions  of  Christianity. 
None  can  be  more  aware  of  the  truth  of  the  statements 
which  I  make  than  Christian  mechanics,  because  they 
are  constantly  thrown  into  the  society  of  those  of  their 
own  class  whose  cold  and  sneering  infidelity,  and  whose 
habitual  disregard  of  the  Sabbath  and  all  Christian  in- 
stitutions, are  themes  of  constant  sorrow  or  annoyance 
to  them.  I  am  sorry  to  believe  that  Benjamin  Franklin 
Jones  adds  one  to  the  number  of  these  faithless  men, 
and  particularly  sorry,   because  he  has  such  natural 


g6  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

strength  of  mind  that  he  cannot  fail  to  have  great  in- 
fluence upon  those  who  are  nearest  him — upon  his  com- 
panions and  his  family.  But  I  must  leave  these  general 
remarks,  for  I  began  with  the  intention  to  say  some- 
thing upon  his  habit  of  staying  away  from  church  on 
Sundays. 

He  told  a  friend  of  mine  the  other  day  that  he  had 
not  put  his  foot  inside  of  a  church  for  ten  years.  He 
made  the  statement,  so  my  friend  informed  me,  in  a 
tone  which  indicated  contempt  not  only  for  the  church 
itself  and  the  religion  which  it  represents,  but  for  all  the 
men  and  women  who  respect  them  both.  Now,  1  like 
his  frankness.  There  is  something  in  his  position  which 
I  cannot  but  respect.  It  is  different  from  the  majority 
of  those  who  spend  their  Sundays  in  laziness  or  pleasure. 
When  they  are  questioned  in  relation  to  their  very 
questionable  courses,  they  take  the  position  of  culprits 
at  once,  and  make  their  excuses — always,  however,  pro- 
testing that  they  have  the  most  profound  respect  for 
religion  and  its  institutions.  They  make  a  merit  of  this 
respect,  and  put  it  forward  as  a  substitute  for  the  thing 
itself.  Fools  may  be  taken  in  by  this  sort  of  talk,  but 
God  and  wise  men  can  only  have  contempt  for  those 
who  pretend  to  honor  a  religion  whose  institutions  they 
treat  with  persistent  neglect. 

If  we  speak  to  some  of  these  men  about  their  neglect 
of  attendance  upon  the  Sunday  ministrations  of  the 
church,  they  will  say  that  they  can  worship  God  as  well 


Benjamin  Franklin,  Jones.  97 

in  the  fields  as  they  can  in  the  sanctuary — that  they 
can  commune  with  Him  quite  as  well  alone,  among  the 
beauties  of  nature,  as  in  the  great  congregation,  sur- 
rounded by  ribbons  and  artificial  flowers.  As  indepen^ 
dent  propositions,  these  may  be  sound.  I  will  not  con- 
trovert them  ;  but  when  these  men  put  them  forward, 
they  do  it  for  the  purpose  of  skulking  behind  them,  and 
they  know  very  well  that  they  have  no  relation  to  their 
case.  They  know  that  they  never  worship  God  in  the 
fields,  and  that  they  would  be  frightened  at  the  thought 
of  an  act  of  communion  with  Him.  Others  will  de- 
nounce the  impurities  and  imperfections  of  the  church, 
or  find  fault  with  the  minister,  or  certain  of  the  leading 
members.  All  kinds  of  apologies  are  put  forward  by 
these  poor  men  to  delude  themselves  and  their  neighbors 
with  the  belief  that  they  are  really  better  than  those  who 
go  to  church — that  they  have,  at  least,«quite  as  much  re- 
spect for  religion  as  those  who  do. 

All  this  talk  disgusts  me,  for  I  know  that  there  is  no 
sincerity  in  it.  When  a  man  tells  me  that  he  respects 
religion,  I  want  to  see  him  prove  it  in  some  practical 
way.  If  he  really  respects  religion,  he  will  give  his  life 
to  it,  and,  as  the  smallest  possible  proof  of  respect  that 
he  can  render,  he  will  scrupulously  attend  upon  its  ordi- 
nances, and  show  to  the  world  the  side  upon  which  he 
wishes  his  influence  to  count.  No,  when  men  tell  me 
that  they  respect  religion,  and  offer  in  evidence  only 
their  studied  and  persistent  absence  from  all  Christian 
5 


98  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

ministrations,  I  have  simply  to  respond  that  I  do  not 
respect  them.  They  are  a  set  of  hypocrites  and  hum- 
bugs. They  talk  about  the  hypocrisy  of  the  church! 
There  is  not  such  another  set  of  hypocrites  in  America, 
as  those  who,  while  professing  to  respect  Christianity, 
devote  the  Christian  Sabbath  to  their  own  selfish  ease 
or  convenience,  and  regularly  shun  the  assemblages  of 
Christian  men  and  women.  Sometimes  they  try  to 
prove  their  sincerity  by  throwing  in  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren. They  will  tell  people  that  they  hire  a  pew,  and 
dress  their  wives  and  children  for  the  public,  that  they 
are  willing  that  they  should  attend  church,  and  that  they 
have  too  much  respect  for  religion  to  stand  in  anybody's 
way,  while  by  every  Sunday's  example,  they  plainly  de- 
clare to  their  wives  and  children  that  they  regard  the 
church  and  the  religion  which  it  represents  as  unworthy 
the  respect  and  attention  of  a  rational  man. 

I  repeat,  then,  that  there  is  something  in  Benja- 
min Franklin  Jones'  position  which  I  respect.  He  has 
brought  himself  to  the  belief  that  Christianity  is  a  delu- 
sion— a  cheat.  He  has  no  respect  for  religion,  and  does 
not  hesitate  to  express  his  contempt  for  it.  All  preach- 
ing is  blarney  and  cant  to  him  ;  all  prayer  is  blatant 
nonsense  addressed  to  a  phantom  of  the  imagination. 
Practically,  his  companions  in  absence  from  the  church 
on  Sunday  occupy  his  most  decidedly  irreligious  posi- 
tion, and  their  weakly  lingering  belief  in  the  truth  of 
Christianity,  or  in  the  possibility  of  its  truth  (which  is 


Benjamin  Franklin  Jones.  99 

all  their  "respect "  means),  might  as  well,  for  any  prac- 
tical purpose,  be  disbelief.  His  position  is  really  bet- 
ter than  that  of  those  who  pretend  to  respect  religion, 
and  who  treat  it  with  the  same  contempt  that  he  does, 
because  he  is  not  a  hypocrite.  I  speak  of  him,  then,  as 
the  most  respectable  and  decent  man  of  his  class. 

My  desire  is  to  give  him  one  or  two  good  reasons 
for  going  to  church  which  do  not  depend  upon  the 
authenticity  of  Christianity,  or  upon  the  sacredness  of 
the  Christian  Sabbath  at  all.  My  first  reason  is  that 
unless  a  man  puts  himself  into  a  fine  shirt,  polished 
boots,  and  good  clothes  once  a  week,  and  goes  out  into 
the  public,  he  is  almost  certain  to  sink  into  semi-bar- 
barism. He  knows  that  unless  he  can  do  this  on  Sun- 
day, he  cannot  do  it  at  all,  for  he  labors  all  the  week. 
There  is  nothing  like  isolation  to  work  degeneration  in  a 
man.  There  is  nothing  like  standing  alone,  with  no 
place  in  the  machinery  of  society,  to  tone  down  one's 
self-respect.  He  must  be  aware  that  he  is  not  in  sym- 
pathy with  society.  He  is  looked  upon  as  an  outsider, 
because  he  refuses  to  come  in  contact  with  society  on 
its  broadest  and  best  ground.  It  is  a  good  thing  for 
a  man  to  wash  his  face  clean,  and  put  on  his  best 
clothes,  and  walk  to  the  house  of  God  with  his  wife 
and  children  on  Sunday,  whether  he  believes  in  Chris- 
tianity or  not.  The  church  is  a  place  where,  at  the 
least,  good  morals  are  inculcated,  and  where  the  vices 
of  the   community  are   denounced.     He  can  afford   to 


100         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

stand  by  so  much  of  the  church,  and  by  doing  so,  say 
"  Here  am  I  and  here  are  mine,  with  a  stake  in  the  wel- 
fare of  society,  an  interest  in  the  good  morals  of  soci- 
ety." This  little  operation  gone  through  with  every  Sun' 
day  would  give  him  self-respect,  help  him  to  keep  his 
head  above  water,  and  bring  him  into  sympathy  with  the 
best  society  the  world  possesses.  A  man  needs  to  beau- 
tify himself  with  good  clothes  occasionally  to  assure 
himself  that  he  is  not  brother  of  the  beast  by  the  side 
of  which  he  labors  during  six  days  of  every  seven,  and 
he  needs  particularly  to  feel  that  he  has  place  and  con- 
sideration in  clean  society. 

Another  reason  why  he  should  go  to  church  on  Sun- 
day is  that  he  needs  the  intellectual  nourishment  and 
stimulus  which  he  can  only  get  there.  I  suppose  that 
he  does  not  often  consider  the  fact  that  the  greatest 
amount  of  genuine  thinking  done  in  the  world  is  done 
by  preachers.  I  suppose  he  may  never  have  reflected 
that,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  din  of  business,  and  clash- 
ing of  various  interests — in  the  midst  of  the  clamors 
and  horrors  of  war,  the  universal  pursuit  of  amusements 
and  the  vanities  and  inanities  of  fashion,  and  the  indul- 
gence of  multitudinous  vices,  there  is  a  class  of  self- 
denying  men,  with  the  best  education  and"  the  best  tal- 
ents and  habits,  who,  in  their  quiet  rooms,  are  think- 
ing and  writing  upon  the  purest  and  noblest  themes 
which  can  engage  any  mind.  Among  these  men  may  be 
found  the  finest  minds  which  the  age  knows — the  mosf 


Benjamin  Franklin  Jones.  lOi 

splendid  specimens  of  intellectual  power  that  the  world 
contains.  The  bright  consummate  flower  of  our  Amer- 
ican college  system  is  the  American  ministry.  Among 
these  men  are  many  who  are  slow — stupid,  it  may  be 
— but  there  is  not  one  in  ten  thousand  of  them  who  does 
not  know  more  than  Benjamin  Franklin  Jones  does. 
He  can  learn  something  of  them  all,  while  some  of  them 
possess  more  brains  and  more  available  intellectual 
power  than  he  and  all  his  relatives  combined.  If  he 
supposes  the  American  pulpit  to  be  contemptible,  he 
is  very  much  mistaken.  He  has  staid  away  from  it  for 
ten  years.  During  all  these  ten  years  I  have  attended  its 
weekly  ministrations,  and  I  have  a  better  right  to  speak 
about  it  than  he  has,  because  I  know  more  about  it.  I 
tell  him  and  his  friends  that  I  have  received  during  these 
ten  years  more  intellectual  nourishment  and  stimulus 
from  the  pulpit  than  from  all  other  sources  combined, 
yet  my  every-day  pursuits  are  literary  while  his  are  not. 
There  is  something  in  the  pursuits  of  working  men 
— I  mean  of  men  who  follow  handicraft — which  ren- 
ders some  intellectual  feeding  on  Sunday  peculiarly 
necessary.  They  work  all  day,  and  when  they  get  home 
at  night,  they  can  do  nothing  but  read  the  news,  and  in- 
dulge in  neighborhood  gossip.  They  are  obliged  to  rise 
early  in  the  morning,  and  that  makes  it  necessary  that 
they  should  go  to  bed  early  at  night.  They  really  have 
no  time  for  intellectual  culture  except  on  Sunday. 
Thee   they  are  too  dull  and  too  tired  to  sit  down  to  a 


I02         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

book.  They  always  go  to  sleep  over  any  book  that  taxes 
their  brains  at  all.  They  know  that  there  is  nothing  but 
the  living  voice  which  can  hold  their  attention,  and  they 
know  that  that  voice  can  only  be  heard  in  the  pulpit. 
The  working-man  who  shuns  the  pulpit  on  the  Sabbath, 
voluntarily  relinquishes  the  only  regularly  available  in- 
tellectual nourishment  of  his  life.  He  need  not  tell  me 
that  the  pulpit  has  no  intellectual  nourishment  for  him. 
I  know  better.  Philosophy,  casuistry,  history,  metaphy- 
sics, science,  poetry — these  all  are  at  home  in  the  pulpit. 
All  high  moralities  are  taught  there.  All  sweet  char- 
ities are  inculcated  here.  There  are  more  argument 
and  illustration  brought  to  the  support  and  enforcement 
of  religious  truths  than  all  the  other  intellectual  maga- 
zines in  the  world  have  at  command ;  and,  quarrel  with 
the  fact  as  he  may,  he  must  go  to  church  on  Sunday, 
and  hear  the  preaching,  or  be  an  intellectual  starveling. 
His  brain  is  just  as  certain  to  degenerate — his  intellect 
is  just  as  certain  to  grow  dull — under  this  habit  of  stay- 
ing at  home  from  church,  as  a  plant  is  to  grow  pale 
when  hidden  away  from  the  sun. 

But  Benjamin  Franklin  Jones  responds  to  this  that  he 
will  not  attend  church  because  he  does  not  believe  in  the 
doctrines  that  are  preached  there.  Does  he  refuse  to 
attend  a  political  meeting  which  a  gifted  speaker  is  to 
address,  because  he  is  not  of  his  way  of  thinking  ?  Does 
he  stay  away  from  the  lecture  of  a  man  who  has  brains, 
because  he  cannot  endorse  his  sentiments  ?     Why,  he  is 


Benjamin  Franklin  Jones.  103 

very  much  behind  the  age.  The  most  popular  lecturers 
of  America  have  for  years  been  those  who  have  repre- 
sented the  principles  and  sentiments  of  a  small  minority. 
Intellectual  men  have  maintained  their  place  upon  the 
platform  when  their  persons  and  their  principles  were 
held  in  abhorrence  by  the  masses  whom  they  addressed. 
It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  mention  names,  to  prove 
this  statement,  for  the  facts  are  too  fresh  and  too  noto- 
rious. Does  he  decline  to  attend  a  circus  because  the 
performers  differ  with  him  as  to  the  number  of  horses  it  is 
proper  for  a  man  to  ride  at  one  time  ?  Is  it  possible  that 
he,  who  has  been  charging  bigotry  upon  the  church  and  its 
representatives  so  long,  is  a  bigoted  man  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  he  who  has  denounced  the  American  Christian  min- 
istry for  intolerance  is  intolerant  himself  ?  It  looks  like  it. 
He  is  truly  lame  in  this  matter.  His  position  is  a 
very  weak  one.  It  is  not  based  in  any  principle — it  is 
based  in  prejudice.  Besides,  he  is  not  truthful  when 
he  says  that  the  utterances  of  the  pulpit  generally  are 
incredible.  I  have  been  a  constant  attendant  of  church 
all  my  life,  and  I  declare,  without  any  hesitation,  that 
three-quarters  of  the  sermons  I  have  heard  have  been 
other  than  doctrinal  sermons.  The  majority  of  the  ser- 
mons preached  have  their  foundation  in  the  eternal 
principles  of  right — in  the  broad  moralities  to  which  he 
and  every  other  decent  man  subscribes.  He  knows 
that,  as  a  system  of  morals,  Christianity  is  faultless.  He 
knows  that  if  the  world  should  live  up  to  the  morals  of 


104         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

Christianity — we  will  say  nothing  about  it  as  a  system  of 
religion — there  would  be  no  murder,  no  war,  no  stealing, 
no  wrong, — that  everywhere  men  would  walk  in  peace  and 
concord  and  fraternal  affection,  and  that  the  golden  rule 
would  be  the  universal  rule  of  life.  The  pulpit  is  the 
spot  of  all  others  in  the  world  where,  through  the  won- 
derful agency  of  the  human  voice,  these  morals  are  taught ; 
and  does  he  tell  me  that  he  will  not  go  to  church  because 
he  does  not  believe  in  what  is  taught  there  ?  He  does  be- 
lieve at  least  three-quarters  of  the  teachings  of  the  pulpit. 
He  does  himself  great  wrong  by  holding  himself  aloof 
from  an  institution  which  would  not  only  nourish  his  in- 
tellect, but  instruct  and  confirm  him  in  those  moralities 
which  are  the  only  safeguard  of  that  society  which  num- 
bers among  its  members  his  wife  and  children. 

Perhaps  he  can  afford,  or  feels  that  he  can  afford,  to 
teach  his  children  that  Christianity  as  a  system  of  relig- 
ion, is  a  cheat,  but  he  cannot  afford  to  confound  with 
it,  and  condemn  with  it,  the  moralities  of  Christianity. 
He  cannot  afford  to  teach  his  children  by  words  or  deeds 
that  the  great  mass  of  the  teachings  of  the  pulpit  are 
unworthy  of  consideration  ;  for  their  safety,  their  re- 
spectability, their  prosperity,  their  happiness,  all  de- 
pend upon  the  adoption  and  practice  of  Christian  mor- 
als. Does  he  teach  them  Christian  morals  ?  Is  he 
careful  to  sit  down  on  the  Sabbath,  or  at  any  other  time, 
and  instruct  them  in  those  moralities  that  are  essential 
to  the  right  and  happy  issue  of  their  lives  ?     He  has  not 


Benjamin  Franklin  Jones.  105 

the  face  to  do  any  such  thing,  for  his  position  will  not 
permit  him  to  do  it  without  shame.  Well,  if  he  refuses 
to  do  it,  who  will  do  it  ?  Unhappily,  his  wife  is  quite  as 
much  under  his  influence  as  his  children,  and  unless 
those  children  go  to  church  on  Sunday,  they  will  get  no 
instruction  in  Christian  morals  whatever,  except  such  as 
they  may  pick  up  at  the  public  schools. 

These  children  of  his  are  not  to  blame  for  being  in 
the  world.  They  came  forth  from  nothingness  in  answer 
to  his  call,  and  they  are  on  his  hands.  He  is  responsible 
to  them,  at  least,  for  their  right  training.  He  is  in  per- 
sonal honor  bound  to  give  them  such  instructions  in  mor- 
als as  will  tend  to  preserve  to  them  health  of  body  and 
mind,  and  honorable  relations  with  society.  How  will 
he  do  it  ?  By  telling  them  that  church-going  is  foolish- 
ness, and  Sabbath  keeping  nonsense,  and  the  teachings 
of  the  pulpit  only  tricks  of  priestcraft,  and  the  amuse- 
ment of  blockheads  ?  Not  so.  He  must  take  these  chil- 
dren by  the  hand  and  lead  them  to  church,  and  show 
that  there  are,  at  least,  some  things  that  come  from  the 
pulpit  which  he  respects.  It  will  not  be  enough  that  he 
sends  them  and  their  mother.  He  must  go  with  them, 
for,  if  he  does  not,  they  v/ill  soon  learn  the  realities  of 
the  pulpit,  and,  in  learning  them,  learn  to  pity  him,  and 
to  hold  his  intolerance  in  contempt.  He  must  stand  by 
the  pulpit  as  the  great  teacher  of  public  and  private 
morality,  or  do  an  awful  injustice  to  the  children  for 
whose  life  and  health  and  education  he  is  responsible. 


WASHINGTON   ALLSTON    JONES. 

CONCERNING  THE  POLICY  OF  MAKING  HIS  BRAINS 
MARKETABLE. 

JUDGING  from  recent  conversations  with  this  gentle- 
man, and  from  many  things  I  have  heard  about 
him,  he  is  not  satisfied  with  the  resuhs  of  his  life,  thus 
far.  He  has  tried  various  fields  of  effort,  and  has  failed 
of  the  success  he  sought  in  all.  He  knows  my  honest 
friendship  for  him,  and  the  measure  of  respect  which  I 
entertain  not  alone  for  his  intellectual  gifts,  but  for  that 
high  ideal  of  art  and  its  mission  which  has  been  the  only 
bar  to  his  reward.  He  wrote  a  novel,  which  failed, 
simply  because  he  refused  to  write  one  which  would 
succeed.  He  erected  a  standard  in  his  own  soul,  bowed 
to  his  standard,  and  then  was  disgusted  because  the  hu- 
manity upon  which  he  had  turned  his  back  would  not 
applaud  his  doing.  He  wrote  a  poem,  classical  without 
a  doubt — powerful  and  beautiful  in  its  way  beyond  ques- 
tion— but,  somehow,  the  poem  had  no  point  of  sympathy 
with  the  age  which  he  believed  ought  to  receive  and 
love   it.     Behind   these   two   books  he  sat   in   imperial 


Washington  Allston  Jones.  107 

pride,  disgusted  with  the  world  which  seemed  so  little  in 
knowledge  and  so  low  in  feeling — so  unable  to  appreci- 
ate him,  and  so  ready  to  give  its  applause  to  men  of 
slenderer  faculty  and  shallower  motives.  Will  he  per- 
mit me  to  say  to  him  now,  before  it  is  too  late,  that  the 
world  will  never  come  to  him,  and  that  he  must  go  to 
the  world  or  die  voiceless  ? 

The  world  is  not  in  want,  just  at  this  time,  we  will  say, 
of  life-sized  portraits  in  oil,  with  all  their  stately  con- 
ventional accompaniments.  The  world  happens  to  want 
photographs,  and  will  have  nothing  but  photographs. 
He  chooses  to  stand  by  his  pigments  and  his  canvas 
and  his  camel's  hair,  and  to  starve,  while  all  the  world 
rushes  by  him  to  patronize  the  sun.  He  imagines  that 
it  would  degrade  him  to  have  anything  to  do  with  photo- 
graphs. He  would  not  make  one — he  would  not  color 
one — -he  would  not  touch  one  with  one  of  his  fingers,  be- 
cause his  idea  of  art,  or  what  he  chooses  to  consider  art, 
is  so  high,  that  he  could  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  pro- 
duction of  a  photograph  without  a  sense  of  humiliation. 
He  will  die  rather  than  disgrace  the  art  to  which  he  is 
in  honor  married,  and  degrade  the  standard  he  has 
erected  for  himself.  Let  him  die  if  it  will  be  any  satis- 
faction to  him  ;  but  the  world  will  never  thank  him  for 
it,  and,  moreover,  will  vote  him  a  fool  for  his  voluntary 
sacrifice.  The  only  way  for  him  is  to  meet  the  want  of 
the  world  and  make  photographs — make  the  best  photo- 
graphs that  the  world  has  seen— so  that  it  shall  come  to 


io8         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

him  and  ask  him  to  do  it  favors,  and  beg  the  privilege 
of  paying  him  much  honor  and  much  money. 

I  confess  that  I  have  a  measurable  respect  for  that 
ideal  of  art  which  refuses  all  compromise  with  popular 
prejudice,  and,  standing  alone,  strives  to  compel  the 
homage  of  the  world,  and  failing,  stands  in  self-compla- 
cent pride  to  pity  and  despise  those  who  will  not  bow  to 
it.  Yet  this  ideal  upon  v/hich  the  issue  of  Washington 
AUston's  life  seems  to  be  turning,  has  in  it,  to  a  fatal 
degree,  the  element  of  selfishness.  What  is  art  but  a 
minister  ?  What  is  art  but  a  vehicle  by  which  he  may 
transport  the  life  which  is  in  him  to  the  souls  by  which 
he  is  surrounded — for  their  good,  and  not  for  his  ?  Cut 
off  from  its  relations  to  life — to  the  life  which  produces 
it  and  that  to  which  it  is  addressed — standing  by  itself — 
what  is  art  but  a  phantom  ? — a  nothing  with  a  name  ? 
God  has  endowed  this  man  with  intellectual  wealth.  He 
has  given  him  great  power,  and  set  him  upon  a  throne 
where  he  can  reason  and  judge  and  reach  outward  and 
upward  into  great  imaginations  ;  he  has  given  him  the 
power  to  speak  and  to  sing.  For  what  purpose  ?  Is  it 
that  he  may  selfishly  shut  this  wealth  of  his  into  a  coffer, 
and  close  the  lips  of  his  utterance,  from  obedience  to  a 
standard  of  art  which  has  more  reference  to  him  than 
to  the  world  to  which  he  owes  service  ?  He  is  rich  and 
must  dispense.  Who  gave  him  his  wealth  ?  Is  it  for 
him  to  stand  and  higgle  with  the  world  about  the  form 
or  style  in  which   it  shall  receive  his  gifts  ?     Is  it  for 


Washington  Allston  Jones.  109 

him  to  declare  that  the  world  shall  have  none  of  his  ex- 
pression unless  it  be  accepted  in  a  certain  form,  which 
form  shall  have  supreme  consideration  ? 

He  has  carried  his  reverence  for  his  idea  of  art  and 
his  contempt  for  those  who  will  not  regard  it  so  far  that 
he  cannot  speak  with  patience  of  those  who  succeed  in 
the  fields  which  have  witnessed  his  failure.  He  has 
learned  to  despise  those  whom  the  world  applauds,  be- 
cause he  thinks  that  the  world's  applause  can  only  be 
won  by  treachery  to  art.  This  contempt  for  those  who 
succeed  is  the  logical  result  of  his  own  failure  ;  and  now 
he  sits  alone,  in  selfish  pride,  a  martyr,  as  he  supposes, 
to  his  better  ideal  and  his  higher  aim,  the  world  uncon- 
scious meanwhile  that  he  has  in  him  the  power  to  move 
and  bless  it.  He  has  told  me  that  he  distrusts  a  book 
which  sells,  and  has  spoken  with  undisguised  contempt 
of  men  who  carry  "  marketable  brains,"  as  he  was 
pleased  to  call  them. 

And  now  we  get  at  our  subject  What  are  brains  good 
for  that  are  not  marketable  ?  My  belief  is  that  a  man 
who  has  brains  is  in  duty  bound  to  make  them  market- 
able. My  position  is  that  unless  mind,  under  Christian 
direction  and  control,  is  marketable,  it  is  useless ;  and 
I  must  be  permitted  to  use  the  word  marketable  in  the 
largest  sense.  The  world  is  as  we  find  it — not  as  we 
would  have  it.  We  write,  we  speak,  we  paint,  we  give 
utterance  to  all  forms  of  art,  in  order  to  make  the  world 
richer  and  better ;  and  unless  the  world  will  receive  what 


no         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

we  utter,  and  take  it  into  its  life,  it  is  not  benefited,  and 
our  utterance  is  a  failure.  There  are,  doubtless,  a  few 
great  souls,  laboring  in  some  difficult  departments  of  art, 
that  must  labor  for  the  few,  and  through  these  few  find 
their  way  to  the  world,  but  these  are  exceptional  cases. 
The  case  of  our  friend  is  not  one  of  these,  for  he  has 
undertaken  only  to  address  the  world  at  large,  and  it  is 
his  fault  that  he  has  failed.  He  would  not  take  the  world 
as  he  found  it.  He  intended  that  the  world  should  take 
him  as  it  found  him.  He  did  not  go  to  the  world  to 
sell,  throwing  himself  into  its  markets,  but  stood  at  his 
own  door  determined  to  compel  the  world  to  come  to 
him  and  buy.  The  world  did  not  come,  and  I  do  not 
blame  it. 

In  intellectual,  no  less  than  in  commercial,  affairs,  the 
market  is  the  first  consideration.  The  manufacturer 
never  adopts  one  style  of  fabric  as  that  to  which  alone 
his  effort  of  production  shall  be  devoted,  but  studies  the 
market,  and  shifts  his  machinery  and  modifies  his  ma- 
terial in  accordance  with  the  indications  of  the  market. 
We  hear  of  certain  preachers  who  preach  great  sermons, 
such  as  a  few  only  like  to  hear,  or  have  the  power  to 
remember  and  appropriate.  They  have  no  right  to 
preach  such  sermons.  If  they  have  any  gold  in  them, 
they  should  reduce  it  to  coin  that  will  pass  current  with 
the  people.  There  is  a  stiff  and  stilted  set  in  occupa- 
tion in  many  of  the  American  pulpits,  who  suspect  a 
preacher  who  is  very   popular,  and  hold  in  conteri'pt 


Washington  Allston  Jones.  iii 

him  who  places  himself  in  thorough  sympathy  with  the 
crowd  around  him  that  he  may  reach  and  hold  them,  and 
who  are  particularly  disgusted  with  what  they  call "  sen- 
sational preaching."  It  seems  better  to  them  to  preach 
to  small  congregations  than  to  draw  large  houses  by 
making  their  preaching  marketable.  Is  this  being  all 
things  to  all  men  that  they  may  save  some  ?  Not  at  all. 
It  is  being  one  thing  to  a  few  men,  whether  they  save 
them  or  not.  St.  Paul  understood  the  matter  of  making 
his  intellectual  gifts  and  his  preaching  marketable.  We 
know  writers  of  magnificent  power — some  of  them  are 
certainly  very  greatly  Mr.  Jones's  superiors  in  mental 
acquisition — who  are  burying  their  gifts  in  books  that 
find  no  buyers.  These  men  might  as  well  be  horse- 
blocks, so  far  as  the  world  is  concerned.  They  arc 
doing  nothing  for  the  world.  They  have  not  consulted 
its  market,  and  appear  to  know  and  care  nothing  for  its 
wants.  We  know  orators  who  never  let  themselves 
down  to  minister  to  the  desire  of  those  whom  they  ad- 
dress to  be  melted  and  moved,  but  who  with  stately 
dignity,  insist  on  being  rational  and  dull,  and  on  driving 
from  them  those  whom  they  desire  to  hold. 

Washington  Allston  Jones  sympathizes  with  all  these 
men,  but  does  he  not  see  how  much  a  selfish  pride  lies 
at  the  bottom  of  their  action  ?  I  give  him  and  them 
credit  for  that  self-respect  which  shrinks  from  the  tricks 
of  the  mountebank  and  the  demagogue,  but  I  charge 
him  and  them  with  a  pride  which  is  not  consistent  with 


112         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

the  position  of  the  artist  as  a  minister  of  life.  With  all 
his  nobleness  of  nature,  he  has  never  been  able  to  con- 
ceive of  a  higher  motive  of  action,  in  a  literary  man, 
than  the  ambition  to  achieve  literary  distinction.  He 
does  not  understand  how  a  man  can  undertake  a  literary 
enterprise  which  has  not  literary  reputation  for  its  ob- 
ject ;  and  when  some  book  is  uttered  for  the  simple 
purpose  of  doing  good,  by  one  who  has  it  in  him  to  do 
great  things  for  himself — a  book  which  does  not  even 
pretend  to  literary  merit  beyond  that  which  lies  in 
adapting  means  to  ends — he  curls  his  lip  in  contempt 
for  the  voluntary  degradation.  This  man  for  whom  he 
has  this  contempt,  writes  for  the  market,  and  the  world 
accepts  him,  and  he  does  the  world  good  ;  and  if  he  did 
not  write  for  a  market  the  world  would  spurn  him  as  it 
spurns  Washington  Allston  Jones  ;  and  he  would  be  de- 
prived, as  Washington  Allston  is,  of  the  privilege  of 
doing  the  world  good. 

I  suppose  our  friend  hugs  to  himself  the  delusion 
that  he  is  in  advance  of  his  age,  and  that  what  the  age 
fails  to  appreciate,  posterity  will  receive  at  its  full  value. 
To  leave  out  of  consideration  the  selfishness  of  this 
fancy — as  if  he  and  his  reputation  were  the  only  things 
to  be  taken  into  account — let  me  assure  him  that  the 
coming  age  will  have  its  own  heroes  to  look  after,  and 
it  will  stand  a  very  small  chance  of  stumbling  over  his 
dead  novel  and  his  still-bom  poem.  The  only  way 
for  him  to  win  the  reputation  which  I  know  he  desires, 


Washington  Allston  Jones.  113 

is  to  throw  his  life — his  thinking  and  acting  self — into 
this  age,  as  a  power  to  uplift  and  mould  and  bless  it. 
He  must  come  into  the  market.  He  must  shape  his 
utterances  to  the  want  of  the  times.  He  must  be  con- 
tent to  work  for  others,  forgetful  of  himself,  and  to 
give  to  men,  in  cups  from  which  they  will  drink  it,  that 
life  with  which  God  has  filled  him. 

But  he  despises  his  age.  The  age  has  not  treated  him 
well.  The  age  is  vulgar  and  low  and  rude  and  ungrate- 
ful. The  age  is  mercenary  and  immoral.  His  wounded 
self-love  has  misled  him.  He  is  living  in  the  greatest 
age  of  the  world,  and  his  soul  only  needs  to  be  attuned 
to  its  great  movements  and  events  to  find  itself  coined 
into  words  for  their  majestic  music. 

"  Every  age 
Appears  to  souls  who  live  in  it  (ask  Carlyle) 
Most  unheroic.     Ours,  for  instance,  ours ! 
The  thinkers  scout  it  and  the  poets  abound 
Who  scorn  to  touch  it  with  a  finger-tip  ; 
A  pewter  age — mixed  metal,  silver-washed ; 
An  age  of  scum,  spooned  off  the  richer  past ; 
An  age  of  patches  for  old  gaberdines  ; 
An  age  of  mere  transition,  meaning  nought 
Except  that  what  succeeds  must  shame  it  quite. 
If  God  please." 

And  now  as  I  have  broached  Mrs.  Browning  upon  this 
point,  I  will  go  further,  and  let  her  sing  the  rest  of  my 
paragraph. 


114         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

"  Nay,  if  there's  room  for  poets  in  the  world 
A  little  overgrown  (I  think  there  is), 
Their  sole  work  is  to  represent  the  age — 
Their  age,  not  Charlemagne's — this  live,  throbbing  age 
That  brawls,  cheats,  maddens,  calculates,  aspires. 
And  spends  more  passion,  more  heroic  heat, 
Betwixt  .the  mirrors  of  its  drawing-rooms, 
Than  Roland  with  his  knights  at  Roncesvalles. 
To  flinch  from  modern  varnish,  coat,  or  flounce, 
Cry  out  for  togas  and  the  picturesque, 
Is  fatal — foolish  too. 

' '  Never  flinch. 
But,   still  unscrupulously  epic,  catch 
Upon  the  burning  lava  of  a  song 
The  full-veined,  heaving,  double-breasted  age ; 
That,  when  the  next  shall  come,  the  men  of  that 
May  touch  the  impress  with  reverent  hand,  and  say, 
'  Behold — behold  the  paps  we  all  have  sucked  ? ' 

•'This  is  living  art. 
Which  thus  presents  and  thus  records  true  life. " 

Let  him  do  what  he  can  to  make  his  age  great.  Let 
him  be  alike  its  minister  and  its  mouthpiece.  Let  him 
give  himself  to  his  age,  and  his  age  will  take  care  of 
itself,  and  the  ages  to  come  will  be  the  guardian  of  his 
fame. 

When  he  spoke  to  me  of  "  marketable  brains,"  I 
understood  him  of  course  to  use  the  phrase  in  a  lower 
sense  than  that  in  which  I  have  used  it.  I  have  not 
adopted  his  meaning,  simply  because  it  walks  in  the 
shadow  of  mine.     A  man  who  adapts  the  products  of 


Washington  Allston  Jones.  115 

his  brain  to  the  real  wants  of  the  world,  is  the  man 
who  sells  his  books  and  makes  money  by  them.  He 
ought  to  be  sensible  enough  to  know  that  a  man  who 
writes  from  no  higher  motive  than  the  desire  to  win 
money,  cannot  meet  the  wants  of  the  world,  and  that 
he  who  writes  a  marketable  book  must  necessarily  be 
something  better  than  a  mercenary  wretch  who  would 
sell  all  that  is  godlike  in  him,  for  gold.  Yet  I  will  admit 
that  the  desire  to  win  bread — nay,  the  ambition  to  ac- 
quire a  competent  wealth — is,  in  its  subordinate  place, 
a  worthy  motive  in  impelling  the  artist  to  make  his 
brains  marketable.  Commerce  puts  its  brains  into  the 
market,  and  nobody  cries  out  "  shame,"  or  hints  at 
humiliation.  The  brains  of  all  this  working,  trading, 
scheming  world  are  in  the  market.  These  "  market- 
able brains  "  are  the  pabulum  of  progress  everywhere  ; 
and  a  writer  is  good  for  nothing  for  the  world,  who  does 
not  understand  what  it  is  to  work  for  a  living — what  it  is 
to  expend  life  for  the  means  of  continuing  life.  Nay,  I 
would  go  farther,  and  say  that  God  has,  by  direct  intent, 
compelled  the  worker  in  all  departments  of  art  to  make 
his  brains  marketable,  under  penalty  of  starving. 

To  the  person  of  whom  I  write,  all  this  is  very  dis- 
gusting. He  feels  that  the  artist  ought  to  be  king,  and 
that  grateful  men  should  only  be  too  glad  to  do  homage 
and  bring  gifts  to  him.  He  is  wrong.  The  people  are 
kings,  and  he  is  their  servant.  The  law  announced  by 
the  Great  Teacher  on  this  point  is  universal,  and  with- 


ii6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

out  exception.  A  man  is  felt  to  be  great  only  by  reason 
of  his  power  to  administer  to  the  life  around  him.  Life 
licks  the  hand  that  feeds  it.  He  thinks  it  a  degrada- 
tion to  go  to  the  world  with  his  brains,  adapting  their 
product  to  the  popular  want,  and  taking  his  pay  in  the 
currency  of  the  country  ;  but  it  is  this  or  something 
worse.  Think  of  those  kings  of  the  old  English  litera- 
ture, who  were  obliged  to  sit  and  sneak  in  the  anterooms 
of  nobles,  and  beg  the  patronage  of  the  rich  and  the 
great,  and  become  lickspittles  for  the  sake  of  the  influ- 
ence that  would  sell  their  books,  and  give  them  position, 
and  furnish  them  with  bread  to  starve  on  and  a  garret  to 
die  in  !  The  world  will  not  buy  what  it  does  not  want, 
and  he  cannot  blame  it  without  being  unreasonable.  It 
is  honorable  to  thirst  for  the  world's  praise.  He  needs 
its  money,  he  really  envies  the  success  of  others,  and 
because  praise  and  money  and  success  are  denied  him, 
he  buttons  his  coat  to  his  chin,  turns  up  his  nose  to  the 
world,  and,  "  grand,  gloomy,  and  peculiar,"  stands  apart. 
Washington  Allston  Jones  mistakes  entirely  if  he  sup- 
poses the  world  to  be  a  contemptible  master ;  and  this 
failure  to  appreciate  the  world — this  persistent  under- 
estimate of  the  world — which  he  and  all  of  his  class  en- 
tertain, is  enough  to  account  for  his  failure.  The  world 
deals  with  practical  life,  and  is  guided  by  experience 
and  common  sense.  The  world  is  at  work  to  win  bread 
and  raiment  and  shelter.  The  world  digs  the  field,  and 
searches  the  seas,  and  trades  and  manufactures,  and 


Washington  A  list  on  Jones.  117 

builds  railroads  and  telegraphs  and  ships,  and  prints  and 
reads  newspapers.  The  world  is  full  of  the  cares  of  the 
government.  The  world  fights  battles  and  pays  taxes. 
The  world  is  under  a  great  pressure  of  care  and  work. 
This  working,  trading,  fighting,  careful  world  holds 
within  itself  the  great,  vital  forces  of  society,  the  practi- 
cal interests  of  humanity,  the  wisest,  brightest,  noblest 
minds  that  live.  And  this  world  for  which  he  has  such 
contempt,  is  the  only  competent  judge  of  the  artist,  and 
is  always  the  final  judge  of  art.  "  The  light  of  the 
public  square  will  test  its  value,"  said  Michael  Angelo 
to  the  young  sculptor  whose  work  he  was  examining. 
The  remark  was  the  bow  of  a  respectful  servant  to  his 
master.  Washington  AUston  can  write  for  dillettanti  if 
he  chooses — for  an  audience  "  fit,  though  few  " — for  the 
fellows  of  the  mutual  admiration  society — and  they  will 
praise  him  ;  but  he  knows  that  if  he  fails  to  get  hold  of 
this  world  which  he  affects  to  despise,  he  is  powerless 
and  without  reward  as  a  literary  man. 

As  1  think  of  his  kingly  gifts  of  intellect,  and  of  the 
power  there  is  in  him  to  bless  mankind,  art  itself  ap- 
pears before  me  in  the  likeness  of  Him  who  wore  the 
seamless  robe  among  humble  disciples,  and  the  crown 
of  thorns  between  thieves.  Ah  !  when  art  becomes  the 
mediator  between  genius  and  the  world,  then  does  it 
answer  to  its  noblest  ideal,  and  confer  the  greatest 
glory  upon  the  artist.  He,  in  his  realm,  is  almost  as 
incomprehensible  and  unapproachable  by  the  world  as 


Ii8         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

God  was,  before  he  expressed  His  love  and  His  practi- 
cal good  will  through  the  gift  of  The  Beloved.  He  had 
wrought  augustly  in  the  heavens,  and  filled  the  earth 
with  glory.  He  had  crowded  immensity  with  the  tokens 
of  His  power  and  the  expression  of  His  majestic  thought ; 
but  the  world  did  not  see  him — would  not  receive  him — 
regarded  him  without  reverence.  Why  should  he  not 
despise  the  world  ?  Why,  falling  back  upon  the  dignity 
of  His  Godhead,  and  sufficient  for  himself,  did  He  not 
spurn  the  race  which  so  disregarded  itself  and  him  ? 
Ah  !  he  pitied.  He  respected  the  characteristics  of  the 
nature  He  had  made.  He  sent  the  choicest  child  of  His 
Infinite  Bosom  down  into  the  world  to  wear  its  humblest 
garb,  and  eat  its  homeliest  fare,  and  perform  its  mean- 
est offices,  and  die  its  most  terrible  and  disgraceful 
death,  that  the  world  might  drink  through  Him  the  life 
of  the  Everlasting  Father.  In  this  way  let  our  friend 
send  his  mediator  into  the  world.  Let  him  send  the 
child  of  his  bosom,  clad  in  humble  garments — charged 
only  with  a  mission  of  love  and  practical  good  will  to 
men.  Let  me  assure  him  that  he  can  only  bring  the 
world  to  love  him  and  learn  of  him  by  making  it  the  par- 
taker of  his  life  through  some  expression  of  art  which 
it  can  appropriate.  No  matter  if  it  die.  It  shall  rise 
again,  and  when  it  rises,  rise  to  him,  drawing  all  men 
unto  it  and  unto  him. 


REV.   JEREMIAH   JONES,    D.D. 

CONCERNING     THE    FAILURE     OF    HIS   PULPIT 
MINISTRY. 

I  NEVER  should  have  undertaken  this  paper,  had  I 
not  been  requested  to  do  so  by  one  of  the  profes- 
sional brethren  of  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones.  It  is  not 
a  pleasant  thing  to  find  fault  with  people,  particularly 
with  those  whose  faults  are  the  results  of  natural  organ- 
ization. My  object  in  finding  fault  at  any  time,  with 
any  person,  is  his  reform  ;  and  the  subject  of  this  paper 
can  never  reform.  He  cannot  make  himself  over  again, 
into  something  different  and  better ;  and  this  ink  of 
mine  will  be  wasted,  unless  it  shall  address  other  eyes 
than  his.  The  assurance  that  other  eyes  will  be  inter- 
ested in  what  I  have  to  say  to  him  determines  me  to 
write  this  paper. 

Surveying  the  American  pulpit,  I  find  it  occupied  by 
men  who  can  legitimately  be  divided  into  two  great 
classes,  and  these,  for  the  present  purpose,  I  will  call 
the  poetical  and  the  unpoetical.  I  am  not  sure  that 
these  designations  are  sufficiently  definite,  or  even  suf- 
ficiently suggestive,  but  I  will  tell  him  what  I  mean  by 


I20         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

them.  The  class  which  I  denominate  poetical  is 
composed  of  men  who  possess  imagination,  strong  and 
tender  sympathies,  profound  insight  into  human  char- 
acter and  motive,  and  power  to  attract  to  themselves 
the  affections  of  those  around  them.  These  men  pos- 
sess also  what  we  term  individuality,  in  an  unusual  de- 
gree— a  quality  which  carries  with  it  the  power  to  trans- 
mute truth  into  life — to  resolve  system  into  character — 
to  appropriate,  digest,  and  assimilate  all  spiritual  food 
whatsoever,  so  that  when  they  preach  they  do  not 
preach  as  the  mouthpieces  of  a  school,  or  a  sect,  or  a 
system,  but  as  revelators  and  promulgators  of  a  life. 
These  are  the  preachers  who  touch  men,  because  they 
preach  out  of  their  own  life  and  experience.  These  are 
the  men  who  speak  from  the  heart  and  reach  the  heart 
— the  men  who  possess  what,  for  lack  of  a  better  name, 
we  call  magnetism.  The  unpoetical  class  may  roughly 
be  defined  by  the  statement  that  they  are  the  opposites 
of  the  poetical.  They  have  no  imagination  ;  they  are 
not  men  of  strong  and  tender  sympathies  ;  they  do  not 
possess  fine  insight  (though  some  of  them  possess  a 
degree  of  cunning  which  is  mistaken  for  it);  they  have 
not  the  power  to  attract  to  themselves  the  affections  of 
those  around  them  ;  they  do  not  possess  true  individu- 
ality (though  they  may  have  peculiarities  or  idiosyncra- 
sies which  pass  for  it)  ;  and,  in  their  utterances,  they 
are  little  more  than  the  mouthpieces  of  the  systems 
and  schools  to  which  they  are  attached. 


Rev.  yeremiah  Joties^  D.D.  121 

To  the  latter  class  I  assign  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones 
without  the  slighest  hesitation,  because  nature  has 
placed  him  in  it.  I  have  no  expectation  that  he  will 
ever  be  different  from  what  he  is.  It  is  possible  that 
some  terrible  affliction,  or  some  great  humiliation  will 
soften  his  character,  and  develop  his  heart,  and  quicken 
his  sympathies,  but  I  could  hardly  pray  for  such  dis- 
cipline as  would  be  necessary  to  revolutionize  his  con- 
stitution. No  ;  he  will  live  and  die  the  same  sort  of  a 
man  he  always  has  been — useful  in  some  respects,  self- 
complacent  in  all  respects — an  irreproachable,  unlova- 
ble, sound,  solid,  dogmatic  doctor  of  divinity. 

I  give  him  credit  for  an  honest  Christian  character 
and  purpose,  but  I  should  be  false  to  my  convictions 
should  I  fail  to  tell  him  that  I  consider  him  and  all 
who  are  like  him  to  be  out  of  place  in  the  Christian  pul- 
pit. His  religion  is  mostly  a  matter  of  intellect.  He  is 
fond  of  preaching  doctrine.  He  delights  in  what  he  is 
pleased  to  denominate  theology.  He  rejoices  in  a  con- 
troversy. He  speaks  as  by  authority.  He  denounces 
sin,  as  if  he  had  never  sinned,  and  never  expected  to 
sin.  He  unfolds  what  he  calls  "the  scheme  of  salva- 
tion "  as  if  it  were  a  grand  contrivance  of  the  Supreme 
Being  to  circumvent  Himself — a  marvellous  invention 
by  which  He  is  enabled  to  harmonize  His  justice  with 
His  pity.  He  has  a  "  system  of  truth"  to  promulgate, 
and,  in  his  mind,  it  seems  essential  that  this  system 
should  be  accepted  in  all  its  parts  as  the  condition  of 


122         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

salvation.  He  is,  indeed,  the  special  guardian  of  the 
orthodoxy  of  his  region.  Alas  !  for  the  poor  candidate 
for  the  Christian  ministry  who  may  be  obliged  to  pass 
under  his  examination  !  Alas  !  for  any  person  who  may 
presume  to  decide  that  a  man  can  be  a  Christian  with- 
out embracing  his  "  system  of  truth,"  or  that  religion  is 
not  quite  as  much  a  matter  of  the  brains  as  of  the  heart ! 
He  lugs  along  into  this  present  age,  to  its  scandal  and 
its  shame,  to  the  detriment  and  disgrace  of  the  Chris- 
tian cause,  the  old  Puritan  idea  that  assent  to  a  creed— 
that  belief  in  certain  dogmas  has  more  to  do  with  the 
soundness  of  a  man's  Christianity  than  anything  else. 
He  does  not  ask,  first  and  foremost,  in  his  inquiries 
concerning  a  man,  whether  his  life  is  pure — pious  to- 
ward God  and  loving  and  benevolent  toward  men — 
but  whether  he  is  sound  in  his  "  views."  At  this  very 
moment,  while  he  is  reading  these  words,  he  is  wonder- 
ing, not  whether  I  am  a  Christian  man,  loving  and  ser- 
ving God  and  men,  but  whether  I  am  orthodox  or  het- 
erodox in  my  "  views  ;"  and  because  I  hold  his  rigid 
scholasticism  in  contempt,  he  regards  me  as  "loose" 
in  my  "  views,"  and,  on  the  whole,  dangerous  in  my 
teachings.  I  should  like  to  ask  him  if  this  is  not  so. 
Has  he  not  been  troubled  more  with  doubts  about  my 
orthodoxy,  while  reading  this  paragraph,  than  anything 
else  ? 

I  hope  he   will   not  be   offended   if  I  reveal  to  him 
the  nature  of  his  Sabbath  ministrations,  and  endeavor 


Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones^  D.D.  123 

to  show  him  why  he  cannot  hope  to  accomplish  very 
much  for  his  Master.  His  manner  is  not  humble — his 
spirit  is  not  humble.  He  does  not  enter  his  church  on 
Sunday  morning  crushed  with  a  sense  of  his  respon- 
sll^ility — feeling  the  need  of  aid  and  inspiration — filled 
Yvith  tender  reverence  toward  God  and  love  towar.1 
man.  His  utterances  are  those  of  a  self-sufficient  man. 
llis  prayers  touch  nobody.  They  are  full  of  sonorous 
phrases  culled  from  the  sacred  text ;  they  abound  in 
passages  of  information  addressed  to  the  Deity  ;  they 
embrace  all  the  objects  of  Christian  solicitude  and  la- 
bor ;  they  range  the  earth  through  all  the  degrees  of 
latitude  and  longitude  for  subjects  ;  the  sailor,  the  sol- 
dier, the  heathen,  the  Jews,  the  Roman  Catholics  and 
all  other  errorists,  the  foreign  missionaries,  the  civil  au- 
thorities— all  these  come  in  by  catalogue.  These  broad 
generalities  of  petition,  which  do  not  grow,  as  he  very 
well  knows,  out  of  any  immediate  impulse  of  desire, 
but  only  out  of  a  general  impression  of  desirableness, 
have  not  the  slightest  power  to  lead  a  congregation  in 
genuine  prayer.  The  thing  sounds  well.  The  words  are 
well  chosen  and  well  pronounced,  but  they  do  not  lift 
a  heart  to  its  Maker,  or  give  voice  to  the  aspirations  of 
a  single  soul. 

His  sermon  is  like  his  prayer,  and  carries  with  it  the 
idea  that  he  is  safe,  and  comparatively  independent. 
It  is  as  if  he  were  to  stand  in  his  pulpit,  and  say,  "  Here 
am  I,  Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones,  D.D,,  safe,  by  the  grace  of 


124         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

God,  forever,  with  a  message  to  deliver.  Repent  and 
believo  what  I  beheve,  and  you  will  be  saved  ;  refuse  to 
repent  and  believe,  and  you  will  be  damned.  Take 
things  in  my  way,  see  things  as  I  see  them,  adopt  my 
opinions  and  my  system,  and  you  will  be  all  right.  If 
you  do  not,  then  you  will  be  all  wrong,  and  I  wash  my 
hands  of  all  responsibility  for  your  destruction."  Salva- 
'.ion  would  seem,  in  his  scheme,  to  be  a  matter  of 
machinery.  He  preaches  just  what  he  was  taught  to 
preach  at  the  theological  seminary,  and  has  not  taken  a 
single  step  in  advance.  It  is  the  same  old  brain  stuff, 
unsoftened  by  a  better  love,  unfertilized  by  a  better  ex- 
perience, without  life  or  the  power  to  enrich  life.  He  puts 
before  his  hearers  a  skeleton,  and  holds  them  responsi- 
ble for  not  seeing  and  admitting  that  it  is  a  beautiful 
form  of  life.  He  gives  them  a  system  and  a  scheme,  when 
they  need  a  life  and  a  heart.  He  insists  on  driving  them 
by  threats  to  Him  who,  with  a  different  spirit  and  a  differ- 
ent policy,  said  "  Come  to  me."  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
understood  that  I  blame  him  for  all  this,  for  he  cannot  very 
well  help  it.  I  only  state  the  matter  in  detail,  to  prove 
that  the  pulpit  is  not  the  place  for  him.  He  is  honest 
enough,  but  he  has  no  sensibility.  He  has  mind  enough, 
but  he  has  none  of  that  poetic  or  spiritual  insight  which 
enables  other  men  to  seize  the  essence  of  that  scheme 
of  truths  with  whose  adjustment  into  form  and  system 
he  so  constantly  busies  himself.  I  once  entered  the 
study  of  a  preacher  who  had  been  for  three  months  out 


Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones,  D.D.  125 

of  public  employment,  and  who,  to  demonstrate  to  me 
his  industry,  assured  me  that  he  had  written  during  that 
period  thirty-six  sermons.  Indeed,  he  showed  me  the 
pile.  Now  there  was  a  job  which  the  Rev.  Jeremiah 
Jones  could  have  done  as  well  as  he,  but  neither  he,  nor 
any  other  man  who  could  do  it,  is  fit  to  write  a  sermon 
at  all.  Moved  by  no  special  want  of  the  souls  around 
him,  taking  no  suggestions  from  the  living  time,  he 
wrote  sermons — very  sound  sermons,  doubtless — but 
sermons  with  no  more  power  in  them  to  move  men  than 
there  is  in  a  mathematical  proposition.  The  Rev.  Jere- 
miah Jones  seems  to  feel  that  the  truth  is  the  truth,  and 
that  if  he  promulgates  it  with  an  honest  purpose,  it  is 
all  that  is  necessary.  Men  occasionally  find  their  way 
into  his  pulpit,  however,  to  whom  his  congregation  give 
their  hearts  before  they  have  uttered  ten  sentences,  and 
why  ?  The  heart  instinctively  acknowledges  the  creden- 
tials of  its  teacher.  There  is  something  about  some 
men,  in  the  pulpit,  which  draws  my  heart  to  them  at 
once.  I  know  by  their  bearing,  by  the  sound  of  their 
voices,  by  every  emanation  of  their  personality,  that 
their  hearts  are  on  a  sympathetic  level  with  all  human- 
ity— that  they  are  bowing  tearfully  under  their  own  bur- 
den while  they  help  me  to  bear  mine — that  they  are  my 
fellows  in  temptation,  in  struggle,  in  aspiration. 

This  poetic  instinct — this  power  to  reach  through 
words  and  phrases,  and  forms  and  types  and  figures,  and 
to  grasp   the  naked  truths  of  which  they  are  only  the 


126         Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

representatives — is  essential  to  any  man  who  feeds  the 
people.  Dr.  Jones  is  fond  of  creeds  and  catechisms  ; 
and  those  who  listen  to  him  are  instructed  in  creeds  and 
catechisms  ;  but  he  might  just  as  hopefully  undertake  to 
make  a  living  tree  out  of  dry  chips,  as  a  living  Christian 
out  of  creeds  and  catechisms.  This  poetic  instinct  or 
power  is  the  solvent  of  creeds  and  catechisms — the  gastric 
juice  that  softens  them  into  chyle,  and  the  absorbants 
that  suck  from  them  their  vital  fluid  for  the  soul's  nour- 
ishment. But  why  do  I  talk  to  him  about  this  poetic 
faculty  ?  He  does  not  understand  me.  He  does  not 
comprehend  me  at  all.  He  thinks  that  I  am  foggy  and 
fanciful — transcendental  and  nonsensical ;  but  it  is  he — 
stolid  pretender  to  solidity  and  sound  sense — who  is 
foggy  and  fanciful.  He  thinks  and  calls  himself  a 
matter-of-fact  man,  when  he  is  only  a  matter-of-form 
man.  The  poet  is  the  man  who  touches  facts.  The 
poet  is  the  man  of  common  sense,  who  finds  and  re- 
veals the  inner  life  and  meaning  of  things.  The  true 
poet  in  a  free  pulpit  is  a  man  in  his  place,  and  no  other 
man  is  fit  for  the  place.  When  the  true  poet  speaks 
from  the  pulpit,  the  people  hear ;  and  they  will  hear 
gladly  no  other  man.  He  is  the  only  man  who  can  re- 
veal a  congregation  to  itself.  The  great  charm  of  The 
Great  Teacher  to  the  woman  at  the  well  was  His  power 
to  tell  her  all  the  things  that  ever  she  did,  and  that  was 
her  sole  recommendation  of  Him. 

There  are  not  so  many  preachers  of  Dr.  Jones'  class 


Rcz'.  Jeremiah  Jones,  D.D.  127 

in  the  world  now  as  there  were  once,  thank  God  !  It 
was  this  brain  Christianity— this  intellectualism — this 
scholasticisin — that  gave  root  to  those  great  controver- 
sies and  schisms  which  disgraced  Christianity,  alike  in 
the  judgment  of  history  and  the  eyes  of  a  faithless  world. 
Pride  of  theological  opinion,  sectarian  partizanship, 
strifes  of  words,  splittings  of  hairs,  formalisms, — these 
have  been  the  curse  of  Christianity  and  the  clog  upon 
its  progress  in  all  ages.  He  and  those  who  are  like  him 
have  made  a  complicated  and  difficult  thing  of  that 
which  is  exquisitely  simple.  He  has  surrounded  that 
fountain  which  flows  with  a  volume  of  sparkling  bounty 
for  the  cleansing  and  healing  of  all  humanity,  with 
hedges  of  words  and  forms,  and  conditions  and  preju- 
dices ;  yet  he  is  too  blind  to  see  it.  But  I  see  his  class 
fading  out,  and  another  and  a  better  coming  in,  and  I 
mark  with  gratitude  the  change  in  the  general  aspect 
of  the  Christian  enterprise.  The  differences  between 
sects  are  growing  small  by  degrees  and  beautifully  less. 
Brother  grasps  the  hand  of  brother  across  the  chasms 
which  the  fathers  made.  Names  do  not  separate  as 
they  once  did  those  whom  the  common  reception  of 
the  vital  truths  of  Christianity  has  made  one.  Love 
unites  those  whom  logic  and  learning  have  long  divided. 
And  Dr.  Jones,  with  his  dry  doctrinal  discourses,  his 
array  of  redemptive  machinery,  his  denunciations  and 
threatenings,  his  fulminations  against  opposing  sects, 
his  pride  of  opinion,  and  his  hard,  unpoetic  nature,  is 


128         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

out  of  place  in  a  pulpit  which  is  already  far  in  advance 
of  him. 

I  recently  wrote  a  paper  for  the  benefit  of  an  intel- 
ligent relative  of  the  Doctor  concerning  his  habit  of 
staying  away  from  the  church  on  the  Sabbath.  I  found 
serious  fault  with  him  for  his  delinquencies  in  this  re- 
spect. I  undertook  to  present  to  him  sufficient  reasons 
for  reform,  and  prominently  among  those  reasons  I 
stated  that  he  needed  the  intellectual  stimulus  which,  in 
his  circumstances,  he  would  only  secure  by  attendance 
on  the  ministrations  of  the  pulpit.  I  do  not  retract  what 
I  said  to  him  at  all.  I  should  advise  him  to  hear  Dr. 
Jones  preach,  rather  than  to  hear  nobody,  spending  his 
Sabbaths  in  idleness  ;  yet  I  cannot  hide  from  him  the 
fact  that  such  men  as  Dr.  Jones  are  responsible  to  a 
great  extent  for  the  thinly  attended  Christian  meetings 
of  the  Sabbath.  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  those 
preachers  who  find  themselves  without  power  to  draw 
men  to  them  by  the  beauty  of  their  lives  and  characters, 
and  by  the  adaptedness  of  their  teachings  to  the  popular 
want,  and  by  that  magnetism  of  poetic  or  spiritual  sym- 
pathy which  is  the  heavenly  baptism,  are  doing  more 
than  they  imagine  to  depopulate  the  churches.  I  con- 
fess to  no  small  degree  of  sympathy  with  those  who  pre- 
fer staying  at  home  to  hearing  them  preach  ;  for  though 
I  am  sometimes  stirred  intellectually  by  them,  I  am 
never  moved  religiously  and  spiritually.  Let  us  look 
at  the  churches  for  a  moment,  and  mark  what  we  see. 


Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones,  D.D,  129 

Here  is  a  church  with  a  man  in  the  pulpit  with  great 
intellectual  gifts  and  excellent  scholarship.  His  ser- 
mons are  models  of  English  composition.  He  is  known 
in  all  the  churches  as  a  sound  man.  Look  over  his  con- 
gregation :  two,  three,  four,  in  a  pew — old  men,  steady 
men,  pious  women — some  asleep — all  decorous.  We 
will  see  the  same  sight  fifty-two  Sundays  of  the  year. 
The  teaching  is  good  enough,  but  there  is  no  motion. 
The  instruction  is  sound,  but  there  is  no  impulse.  How 
many  respectable,  sleepy,  sound  preachers  and  churches 
are  there  in  this  country  which  show  no  change  from 
Sabbath  to  Sabbath  and  from  year  to  year,  and  which 
make  no  aggressive  inroads  upon  the  worldly  life  which 
environs  them  ?  Well,  here  is  another  church,  whose 
preacher  never  was  celebrated  for  the  soundness  of  his 
"views" — who,  indeed,  never  paid  very  much  atten- 
tion to  his  "  views  ;  "  but  who  tried  to  do  something — 
tried  to  introduce  a  new  life  into  his  church  and  into  the 
community  in  which  he  lived.  What  is  there  about  this 
man  that  draws  the  crowd  to  him  ?  He  is  not  so  intel- 
lectual as  his  neighbor  ;  he  is  not  so  good  a  scholar  as 
his  neighbor ;  he  cannot  write  so  fine  a  sermon  as  his 
neighbor,  but  he  draws  a  church  full  of  people.  The 
young  flock  to  him  ;  his  Sunday-school  is  the  largest  to 
be  found  for  many  miles  around  him,  and  his  church  is 
recognized  as  a  thing  of  power  and  progress.  This  man 
has  reached  the  hearts  of  his  people,  through  the  sym- 
pathies of  his  poetic  nature.     He  has   touched  them 


130         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

where  they  live — not  where  they  think.  He  has  melted 
them,  moulded  them,  moved  them.  I  am  sure  that  thin 
churches  are  very  much  attributable  to  thin  ministers — 
not  thin  in  brains,  or  scholarship,  but  thin  in  heart  and 
thin  in  human  sympathy  and  in  spirituality — thin  where 
they  should  be  fullest. 

Dr.  Jones,  and  his  brethren  of  the  pulpit,  very  rare- 
ly get  honestly  talked  to  from  the  pews,  but  they  could 
learn  a  great  deal  more  from  them  than  they  imagine^ 
if  the  pews  would  talk  to  them  honestly.  They  rarely 
hear  the  truth.  Their  friends  praise  them,  and  their 
enemies  shun  them.  Let  me  say  this  to  them  :  that 
when  they  preach  they  preach  with  such  an  air  of  au- 
thority, and  such  an  assumption  of  superiority,  and  such 
an  apparent  lack  of  sympathy  with  my  weaknesses  and 
trials,  that  I  find  myself  rising  in  opposition  to  them. 
I  think  that  all  those  hearts  which  have  not  schooled 
themselves  to  accept  their  teachings  as  they  are  ren- 
dered, are  affected  as  mine  is.  I  hope  they  will  not 
deceive  themselves  with  the  thought  that  these  feelings 
are  the  offspring  of  depravity,  for  they  are  no  such 
thing.  They  are  the  spirit's  protest  against  their  right 
to  teach.  Very  differently  do  many  other  men  af- 
fect me.  Ah !  well  do  I  remember  one,  sleeping  now 
within  a  few  rods  of  where  I  write,  and  waking  un- 
counted miles  away  beyond  the  blue  ether  that  draws 
the  veil  between  my  eyes  and  heaven,  who  took  my 
heart  in  his  hand  whenever  it  pleased  him.     He  had  an 


Rev.  Jeremiah  Jones.,  D.D.  131 

intellect  as  bright  and  keen  and  strong  as  any  pulpit 
holds,  but  his  power  was  not  in  that  He  preached  a 
sermon  that  a  tasteful  scholar  would  call  brilliant,  but 
his  power  was  not  in  the  brilliancy  of  his  sermons.  His 
power  was  in  his  sanctified,  spiritualized  humanity,  that 
never  blamed  but  always  pitied  me,  and  took  me  into  its 
charitable  arms  and  blessed  me,  that  held  my  hand  and 
gave  me  loving  fellowship,  that  unselfishly  poured  out 
its  life  that  the  life  of  all  humanity  might  be  raised  to  a 
higher  level.  Dr.  Jones  is  too  great  in  his  own  estima- 
tion. He  is  too  much  impressed  with  his  own  dignity. 
This  other  man  was  humility's  personification,  and  car- 
ried a  sense  of  his  unworthiness  as  a  constant  burden. 
Ah !  I  fear  that  Dr.  Jones  has  not  learned  that  the  weak 
do  not  commit  their  burdens  to  the  strong.  Let  him 
learn  of  his  children  then,  who  seek  for  refuge  in  their 
mother's  slender  arms  and  not  in  his. 

I  said  at  the  outset  that  I  had  no  expectation  of  re- 
forming him,  because  it  is  not  in  him  to  be  reformed. 
He  lacks  the  insight  to  apprehend  spiritual  things ;  he 
is  harsh  ;  he  is  coarse  ;  he  dwells  in  forms  and  phrases ; 
he  is  constitutionally  imperious  ;  he  is  not  sympathetic  ; 
he  is  not  tempted  as  other  men  are.  This  lack  of  sym- 
pathy in  his  nature  has  cut  him  off  from  participation  in 
the  severest  trials  and  struggles  that  ever  visit  the  Chris- 
tian soul.  He  cannot  have  charity  for  others.  But 
there  are  some  who  will  read  this  paper  and  gather  per- 
haps a  valuable  hint  from  it.     It  will  not  have  been  writ- 


132         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

ten  in  vain  if  one  preacher  learns  that  his  power  and 
usefulness  in  the  pulpit  do  not  reside  either  in  the  ortho- 
doxy or  the  heterodoxy  of  his  "  views,"  do  not  reside  in 
any  system  of  theology  or  in  any  intellectual  power,  but 
do  reside  in  a  spiritual  life,  which,  acting  through  its 
sympathies,  by  apprehension  of  and  application  to  hu- 
man need,  nourishes,  elevates,  and  spiritualizes  human 
character. 


STEPHEN   GIRARD  JONES. 

CONCERNING    THE  BEST  WAY  OF  SPENDING   HIS 
MONEY. 

THE  art  least  understood  in  this  country,  where 
money  is  made  easily  and  quickly,  is  that  of 
spending  it  wisely  and  well.  Most  men  think  that  if 
they  could  make  money  they  would  run  the  risk  of 
spending  it  properly  ;  and  these  same  men  criticise  their 
fortunate  neighbors  ;  yet  it  is  doubtless  true  that  the 
poor  do  not  monopolize  the  wisdom  of  the  world,  and 
that  if  they  were  to  change  places  with  the  rich,  money 
would  be  no  better  spent  than  it  is  now.  There  are 
enough  poor  men  who  succeed,  from  time  to  time,  in 
getting  rich,  to  show  that  wealth  rarely  brings  with  it 
the  wisdom  which  will  dispense  it  with  comfort  and 
credit  to  its  possessor  and  with  genuine  benefit  to  the 
world.  Of  how  few  men  of  wealth  can  it  be  said  that 
they  spend  their  money  well !  One  is  niggardly,  another 
is  lavish  ;  one  runs  into  sports  and  debaucheries,  another 
into  extravagance  in  equipage  ;  one  apes  the  fashion- 
able, or  does  what  he  can  to  buy  social  position,  another 


134         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

separates  himself  from  others  by  using  his  money  to 
thrust  his  personal  eccentricities  upon  the  public  ;  one 
expends  thousands  in  ostentatious  charities,  and  there  is 
occasionally  one  who  impoverishes  himself  and  his  family 
by  his  improvident  beneficence.  Caprice  and  impulse 
seem  to  govern  the  spending  of  money  more  than  princi- 
ple, with  the  large  majority  of  those  who  have  money  to 
spend. 

It  is  a  good  sign  for  a  man  who  has  made  money  to 
take  to  spending  it  in  any  way  that  is  not  vicious.  It  usu- 
ally shows  that  he  is  getting  over  the  excitement  of  pur- 
suit— that  the  pleasures  of  seeking  wealth  are  beginning 
to  pall,  and  that  his  heart  is  looking  for  a  fresh  delight. 
It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  good  sign,  I  say,  for  a  man  to 
reach  this  point,  for  it  proves  that  he  is  not  a  miser. 
When  a  man  can  content  himself  with  a  never-ending 
search  for  wealth,  or  rather,  when  a  rich  man  can  be 
content  with  the  pleasure  of  adding  to  wealth  which  he 
can  never  use,  and  which  will  be  most  likely  to  damage 
his  children,  it  is  evident  that  he  possesses  a  very  sor- 
did nature,  or  that  his  character  has  been  made  sor- 
did by  his  absorbing  pursuit  of  gain.  To  begin  to  dis- 
pense with  one  hand  what  the  other  has  gained,  and 
still  may  be  gaining,  is  to  assume  a  healthy  attitude. 
A  man  who  does  this  is  not  spoiling. 

It  happens  in  this  country,  where  estates  are  not 
entailed,  that  there  are  but  a  few  families  which,  for 
any  considerable  number  of  generations,  remain  rich. 


Stephen   Girard  Jones.  135 

Wealth,  when  left  to  voluntary  management,  is  almost 
uniformly  dissipated  in  two  or  three  generations,  so 
that  the  great-grandchild  nearly  always  is  obliged  to  be- 
gin just  where  the  great  grandfather  did.  Oftener  than 
otherwise  the  reach  of  a  fortune  is  briefer  than  this.  It 
is  thus  that  men  are  not  bred  to  the  management  and 
the  expenditure  of  wealth.  Our  rich  men  are  men  who 
have  made  their  money — men  who  have  spent  their 
youth  in  learning  how  to  make  it.  On  becoming  rich, 
they  find  that  there  is  one  part  of  their  education  which 
has  been  neglected,  viz.  :  that  which  relates  to  the  best 
methods  of  spending  money.  They  are  not  misers  ; 
they  are  not  sordid  men  ;  they  would  be  glad  to  do 
something  which  would  prove  to  the  world  that  they  are 
not  altogether  ungrateful  for  the  handsome  way  in  which 
it  has  treated  them.  Moreover,  there  is  a  call  within 
them  for  repayment  in  comfort,  or  some  form  of  satisfac- 
tion for  the  toil  and  care  which  it  has  cost  them  to  win 
wealth.  Many  a  man  on  reaching  wealth  has  found 
himself  confronted  by  the  great  problem  of  his  life,  and 
many  a  man,  unable  to  solve  it,  has  given  up  the  thought 
of  spending,  and  gone  back  to  money-getting  to  seek 
his  sole  satisfaction  in  the  excitement  of  the  pursuit. 
Not  unfrequently  the  process  of  getting  money  has  been 
so  absorbing,  and  has  so  shut  out  of  the  mind  all  culture 
and  all  generous  pleasure,  that  the  spending  of  money 
can  fill  no  want. 
I  have  said  thus  much  gjenerally  on  this  subject,  that 


136         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

my  friend  Mr.  Stephen  Girard  Jones  may  attach  suffi- 
cient importance  to  what  I  have  to  say  to  him.  He  has 
been  fortunate  in  business.  His  enterprise  and  industry 
have  been  abundantly  rewarded.  All  his  adventures 
have  been  prospered,  and  he  is  to-day  the  richest  of  all 
the  Joneses.  What  is  he  going  to  do  with  his  money  ? 
He  has  arrived  at  the  point  when  this  inquiry  has,  I 
am  sure,  profound  interest  for  him.  He  is  not  a  man 
who  can  be  content  with  the  life-long  task  of  acquisition. 
He  wishes  to  give  an  expression  to  his  wealth,  for  his 
personal  satisfaction,  and  for  the  purpose  of  adding 
privileges  to  the  lot  of  those  whom  he  loves. 

In  laying  out  his  plans  for  spending  money,  the  first 
consideration  is  safety  for  himself  and  his  family.  Any 
plan  which  contemplates  idleness  or  dissipation  for  him- 
self or  his  children,  is  illegitimate,  and  will  prove  to  be 
ruinous.  I  am  not  afraid  that  he  will  ever  become  idle, 
or,  even,  that  he  will  become  devoted  to  any  form  of 
vicious  indulgence.  His  habits  of  industry  and  sobriety 
are  well  formed,  and  I  do  not  think  that  he  is  in  any 
personal  danger.  The  danger  relates  entirely  to  his 
family.  He  had  a  hard  time  when  he  was  a  boy,  and 
through  all  his  early  manhood  worked  severely.  He 
has  frequently  said  to  his  friends  that  he  did  not  intend 
that  his  children  should  be  subjected  to  as  much  hard- 
ship as  he  had  been.  Now,  there  is  danger  that  his  pa- 
rental tenderness  will  injure  these  children.  Will  he  per- 
mit me  to  ask  him  what  harm  those  early  hardships  of 


Stephen  Girard  Jones.  137 

his  inflicted  upon  him  ?  Was  it  not  by  the  means  of 
these  hardships  that  he  learned  to  achieve  his  success  ? 
Then  why  does  he  so  tenderly  deprecate  these  hardships 
for  his  children  ?  Let  me  warn  him  that  through  his  ten- 
derness for  his  children  his  wealth  may  become — nay,  is 
quite  likely  to  become — a  curse  to  them. 

This  notion  that  wealth  brings  immunity  from  indus- 
try is  the  ruin  of  thousands  every  year.  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  convey  the  idea  that  this  man's  children  shall  all 
work  in  the  same  way  that  he  has  done,  but  that  neither 
girls  nor  boys  of  his  shall  ever  receive  the  impression 
that  they  can  live  reputably  or  happily  without  the  sys- 
tematic and  useful  employment  of  their  minds,  or  their 
hands,  or  both.  Let  him  give  them  all  a  better  educa- 
tion than  he  had,  and  subject  them  to  the  same  rigid 
rules  of  labor  and  discipline  which  are  applied  to  their 
poorer  classmates.  Above  all  things,  they  should  be 
taught  that  they  must  rely  upon  themselves  for  their 
position  in  the  world,  and  that  all  children  are  mean- 
spirited  and  contemptible  who  base  their  respectability 
on  the  wealth  of  their  father.  Let  him  give  all  his  boys 
a  business  and  assist  them  in  it  sparingly,  and  with 
great  discrimination.  Let  no  son  of  his  "  lie  down  "  on 
him,  but  make  all  the  help  he  gives  him  depend  upon 
his  personal  worthiness  to  receive  it.  Money  won  with- 
out effort  is  but  little  prized,  and  he  may  be  sure  that  he 
will  get  few  thanks  from  his  children  for  releasing  them 
from  the  necessity  of  industry.     Nobody  knows  better 


138  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

than  he,  how  necessary  industry  is  to  the  comfort  and 
pleasure  of  living,  and  it  should  be  his  special  care,  in 
all  his  schemes  for  spending  money  upon  his  family, 
that  these  schemes  should  involve  family  employment 
or  improvement.  Better  a  thousand  times  throw  his 
money  into  the  river,  than  permit  it  to  spoil  his  chil- 
dren. 

There  is  danger  also  to  the  community  in  which  he 
lives,  and  to  the  humble  men  by  whom  he  is  surround- 
ed, in  indiscreet  benefactions.  He  is  impulsive  ;  his 
money  now  comes  to  him  easily  ;  and  it  is  not  hard  for 
him  to  toss  a  gratuity  to  those  whom  he  knows  will  be 
glad  to  receive  it.  Universal  observation  proves  that 
money  which  does  not  cost  anything  is  rarely  well  spent. 
Men  will  thank  him  profusely  for  the  dollar  which  he 
gives  them  for  some  insignificant  service,  but  that 
dollar  is  pretty  certain  to  be  spent  upon  their  vices, 
and  to  help  to  make  them  beggars  and  flunkies.  He, 
doubtless,  finds  himself  surrounded  by  men  who  would 
"  sponge  "  him  gladly — who  think  and  say  that  he  can 
give  them  any  amount  of  money  "and  never  feel  it." 
It  is  possible  that  there  are  a  few  mean-spirited  Joneses 
who  are  already  wondering  whether  he  intends  to  leave 
them  any  money,  or  who  have  already  asked  him  for 
**  assistance."  Let  him  never  dismiss  an  application  for 
help  without  examination  ;  but  he  should  be  very  care- 
ful how  he  gives  money  to  those  who  are  able  to  earn  it. 
Let  him  never  think  it  a  disgrace  to  be  thought  mean 


Stephen   Girard  yones.  139 

and  niggardly  by  those  who  wish  to  get  his  money,  with- 
out rendering  an  equivalent  for  it.    * 

It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  tell  him  that  no  subscrip- 
tion paper  ever  starts  within  five  miles  of  him  that  does 
not  come  to  him  before  it  completes  its  round.  Now  he 
should  not  get  sick  of  the  sight  of  these  petitions.  The 
offices  of  charity  are  never  complete,  and  public  spirit 
will  always  find  work  to  do  in  fresh  measures  of  im- 
provement. It  is  right  that  he,  who  has  been  so  abun- 
dantly prospered,  should  be  abundantly  charitable.  It 
is  right  that  he,  who  has  so  large  a  stake  in  public  or- 
der and  general  prosperity,  should  minister  generally 
to  public  improvement.  The  real  danger  with  him,  is, 
that  he  will  give  in  such  a  way  as  to  relieve  others  of  the 
burden  of  duty  which  they  should  carry.  This,  I  con- 
fess, is  not  the  common  weakness  of  rich  men,  but  it 
would  be  the  common  error  of  the  community  were  he 
to  have  its  will.  There  is  a  contemptible  spirit  per- 
vading the  social  body  which  would  gladly  shirk  the 
cost  of  supporting  public  charities  and  public  institutions 
and  public  improvements  and  throw  it  upon  rich  men. 
Stephen  Girard  Jones  is  a  member  of  a  church  ;  and  I 
am  ashamed  to  say  that  tliere  is  quite  a  general  feeling 
among  the  members  that  he  could  pay  the  entire  ex- 
penses"  without  feeling  it."  I  suppose  he  might  do  this 
without  suffering  very  much  pecuniary  inconvenience 
from  it ;  but  if  he  were  to  do  it  it  would  damage  not 
pnly  the  church  but  him.     The  jealousy  of  the  very 


I40  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

men  who  would  gladly  shirk  expenses  that  they  would 
load  upon  his  shoulders,  would  destroy  the  harmony  of 
the  church  and  drive  him  from  it  It  will  sometimes  fall 
to  his  lot  to  pay  that  which  niggardly  souls  refuse  to  pay, 
after  the  willing  ones  have  exhausted  their  ability.  Let 
him  stand  squarely  up  to  this  work,  like  the  noble  man 
he  is.  Never  let  it  be  seen  by  the  community  that  he 
has  any  desire  to  avoid  expenditures  which  it  belongs 
to  hinx  to  make.  Let  him  do  his  part  scrupulously  well. 
Let  every  man  see  and  feel  that  while  he  will  not  re- 
lieve others  of  burdens  which  belong  to  them,  he  is  de- 
termined to  carry  all  which  belong  to  him,  to  the  last 
ounce.  Let  society  feel  that  it  can  rely  upon  him  at  all 
times  for  that  measure  of  help  which  it  belongs  to  him 
to  render. 

I  am  aware  that  I  have  said  but  little  to  him,  as  yet, 
as  to  the  proper  way  of  spending  money,  but  I  have  nar- 
rowed the  field  of  inquiry.  I  have  told  him  never  to 
spend  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  destroy  the  industrious 
habits  of  his  family  or  to  feed  the  vices  of  the  poor  men 
around  him,  or  to  foster  a  mendicant  spirit  among  his 
relatives,  or  to  relieve  general  society  from  the  burdens 
which  should  be  equitably  distributed  among  its  constit- 
uents; and  now,  let  me  go  further  and  say  that  all  osten- 
tation is  vulgar.  It  is  quite  the  habit  of  men  who  be- 
come rich  to  show  off  their  wealth  by  building  large  and 
costly  houses,  and  furnishing  them  at  great  expense, 
and  displaying  luxurious  equipage.     The  men  who  do 


Stephen  Girard  Jones.  141 

this  are  very  rarely  those  who  have  lived  in  fine  houses,  or 
had  practical  acquaintance  with  luxurious  domestic  ap- 
pointments ;  but  this  seems  to  be  the  only  way  in  which 
they  can  give  expression  to  their  wealth.  It  is,  I  admit, 
better  than  nothing.  Streets  and  building-sites  are  im- 
proved by  it ;  upholsterers  are  benefited  by  it ;  various 
tradesmen  are  enriched  by  it ;  but,  after  all,  ostentation 
is  vulgar,  and,  moreover,  it  is  not  to  his  liking  at  all.  I 
know  he  would  not  enjoy  a  splendid  house  ;  but  he  would 
enjoy  a  better  one  than  he  is  in  now — therefore,  let  him 
build  it.  He  has  good  common  sense  and  very  little 
taste  ;  therefore,  with  only  general  directions,  let  him 
pass  this  business  into  the  hands  of  the  best  architect 
his  money  can  secure.  Let  him  buy  good  taste,  and 
simply  insist  on  convenience  and  solidity.  Let  him 
build  a  house  which  will  be  in  good  taste  a  hundred 
years  hence,  so  that  it  may  be  delighted  in  by  his  chil- 
dren and  his  grandchildren. 

It  may  seem  impertinent  to  tell  a  man  who  has  been 
shrewd  enough  to  make  money  that  he  is  not  shrewd 
enough  to  spend  it,  but  unless  he  has  good  advice,  at 
every  step  of  his  progress,  in  starting  an  establishment 
— that  is,  in  building  his  house,  furnishing  it,  laying  out 
his  grounds,  etc.,  etc., — he  will  be  sure  to  excite  the 
ridicule  of  his  friends,  and  bring  mortification  to  him- 
self It  is  quite  the  habit  of  men  who  have  made  money 
to  grow  self-sufficient,  and  to  suppose  that,  because  they 
have  succeeded  so  well  in  one  department  of  effort,  they 


142         Coticerning  the  Jones  Family. 

arc  equal  to  any,  A  practised  eye  can  tell  these  men 
always,  l>y  the  barren  spots  and  the  uncultivated  and  un- 
occupied spots  which  their  management  betrays.  There 
will  always  be  something  to  show  that  the  establishment 
belongs  to  the  man,  and  that  the  man  does  not  belong 
to  the  establishment — something  to  show  by  its  incom- 
pleteness the  incompleteness  of  the  owner's  education — 
a  library  without  books,  a  palace  without  pictures,  a  gar- 
den without  flowers  or  fruit,  luxury  without  comfort,  or 
something  of  the  sort.  Our  friend  can  have  such  a  place 
as  this  very  easily,  by  simply  taking  the  whole  matter 
into  his  own  hands  and  assuming  that  he  knows  all  that 
is  necessary  to  know  at  starting  ;  but  it  will  be  far  better 
for  him,  and  far  more  for  his  credit,  to  assume  nothing, 
— to  assume  that  he  knows  nothing,  and  to  look  upon 
the  building  and  equipment  of  an  establishment  as  a 
part  of  his  education. 

I  can  imagine  nothing  more  delightful  or  more  useful 
in  family  life  than  the  two  or  three  years  of  study  and 
development  which  attend  the  proper  building  of  a 
house  and  the  appointment  of  the  details  of  a  generous 
establishment.  If  our  friend  and  his  wife  and  his  sons 
and  daughters,  beginning  with  the  assumption  that  they 
know  nothing  of  the  subject,  devote  themselves  to  study 
and  conversation  on  domestic  architecture  and  land- 
scape gardening,  and  furniture  and  books  and  pictures, 
seeking  for  information  and  suggestions  from  every 
source,  they  will  be  surprised  and  delighted  to  find  in 


Stephen   Girard  jfones.  143 

the  end  that  they  have  entered  into  a  new  Hfe.  They 
will  find  that  they  have  grown  quite  as  rapidly  as  their 
house  has  grown,  and  that  their  grounds  and  gardens 
have  been  developed  no  more  than  their  minds.  They 
will  learn,  in  short,  how  to  spend  money  for  themselves 
in  a  way  which  ministers  to  their  growth,  their  industry, 
and  their  happiness.  They  become  the  pupils  of  the 
artists  and  scholars  and  artisans  whom  they  employ, 
studying  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances  ;  and 
they  will  find  that  an  education  thus  pleasantly  inau- 
gurated may  be  pursued  through  life.  It  may  be  pursued 
in  books,  in  society,  in  travel. 

There  is  much  that  I  might  say  upon  this  subject  of 
spending  money  as  it  relates  to  other  people,  in  differ- 
ent circumstances,  but  I  am  speaking  especially  of 
Stephen  Girard  Jones — a  good  type  of  "our  successful 
men."  He  will  find  that  a  costly  table  will  give  him 
the  gout  and  his  children  the  dyspepsia  ;  therefore  let 
him  live  plainly.  He  will  find  that  luxurious  clothing 
only  ministers  to  the  vanity  of  his  children  ;  therefore 
let  him  insist  that  it  shall  be  simply  good,  and  chaste, 
and  tasteful.  He  will  find  that  his  personal  necessities 
are  limited,  and  that  unless  he  permits  his  wealth  to 
produce  a  brood  of  artificial  wants,  he  cannot  ex- 
pend his  money  upon  his  children  or  himself.  Let 
him  have  an  eye  to  those  around  him.  The  greatest 
kindness  he  can  show  to  the  poor  is  to  give  them  em- 
ployment, and   to  pay   them  for  it  well  and  promptly. 


144         Concerning  the  J  ones  Family. 

No  matter  if  he  does  not  really  need  their  service.  If 
they  need  his  money,  let  him  make  *a  service  for  them. 
Above  all  things  he  should  not  give  them  money,  un- 
less calamity  overtake  them  or  they  become  unable  to 
labor.  I  cannot  too  strongly  insist  that  in  all  his  deal- 
ings with  society,  with  the  poor,  and  with  his  children, 
he  shall  never  depreciate  in  their  minds  the  value  of 
money.  He  should  never  permit  himself,  by  his  way  of 
spending  or  bestowing  money,  to  convey  the  idea  that 
money  has  cost  him  nothing.  For  money  is  sacred.  It 
is  the  price  of  labor  of  mind  and  body,  and  by  some 
persons,  at  some  time,  somewhere,  was  dug  from  the 
ground,  or  drawn  from  the  sea.  Because  he  has  been 
fortunate  in  accumulating  it,  he  has  no  right  so  to  spend 
it  as  to  convey  to  the  public  an  incorrect  idea  of  its 
cost  and  true  value. 

After  all,  I  imagine  that  he  will  find  it  very  difficult 
to  spend  well  that  which  Providence  has  favored  him 
with  in  his  home  life  and  in  the  ordinary  charities 
which  appeal  to  him.  In  closing,  I  hope  he  will  per- 
mit me  to  suggest  that  there  is  a  class  of  charities  and  a 
class  of  public  objects  which  make  special  appeal  to  him. 
The  great  majority  of  his  fellow-citizens — even  those 
who  possess  what  we  denominate  a  competence — have 
nothing  left  to  pay  after  defraying  the  expenses  of  their 
individual  and  home  life,  and  contributing  their  portion 
to  the  support  of  society  and  the  ordinary  charities. 
For  a  great  hospital,  for  a  literary  or  a  religious  institu- 


Stephen  Girard  Jones.  145 

tion,  for  a  public  library,  for  a  public  gallery  of  art, 
they  have  nothing.  These  things  exist  through  the 
contributions  of  such  men  as  Mr,  Jones,  or  they  do  not 
exist  at  all.  They  are  costly,  and  must  be  bought  by 
men  of  superabundant  wealth.  Mr.  Jones  is  a  rational 
man,  and  knows  already  that  he  has  more  wealth  than 
he  and  his  family  can  advantageously  spend.  He 
knows,  also,  that  it  is  always  best  for  a  man  to  be  his 
own  executor.  If  he  proposes  to  do  anything  for  the 
world  he  should  do  it  now.  He  should  see  to  the  expen- 
diture of  his  own  money,  and  reap  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  his  generation  enjoying  the  fruit  of  his  benefac- 
tions. This  waiting  until  death  to  give  away  useless 
money  is  the  height  of  folly.  The  money  is  his  to 
spend  ;  let  him  spend  it,  and  thus  multiply  the  sources 
of  his  satisfaction.  It  is  foolish  for  him  to  wait  until  he 
is  dead  to  do  a  deed  from  which  he  has  the  right  to 
draw  pleasure.  Let  him  make  what  he  can  out  of  his 
life,  and  get  what  satisfaction  he  can  out  of  his  money. 
There  are  many  chances  that  it  will  be  wasted  or  misap- 
plied if  he  leaves  it  to  be  administered  after  he  shall 
have  passed  away. 
7 


NOEL  JONES. 

CONCERNING   HIS   OPINION    THA  T  HE  KNO  WS 
PRETTY  MUCH  EVERYTHING. 

I  CANNOT  tell  whether  Noel  Jones  believes  he  knows 
as  much  as  he  pretends  to  know,  or  whether  he  as- 
sumes to  know  everything  as  a  matter  of  policy.  I  am 
simply  aware  that  there  is  no  subject  presented  to  him 
in  practical  science,  in  art,  in  philosophy,  in  morals,  in 
religion,  in  politics,  in  literature,  in  society,  upon  which 
he  does  not  assume  to  entertain  a  valuable  opinion,  and 
that  he  pretends  to  be  competent  to  direct  every  affair, 
and  guide  and  control  every  interest  with  which  he  has 
anything  to  do.  It  seems  to  be  a  matter  of  principle 
with  him  to  follow  no  man's  lead,  and  to  refuse  to  admit 
for  a  moment  that  any  man's  lead,  except  his  own,  can 
be  worthy  of  following.  I  never  knew  him  to  ask  advice 
of  anybody.  It  has  always  seemed  to  me  as  if  he  re- 
garded such  a  measure  as  an  exhibition  of  weakness — 
one  which  would  compromise  his  position  and  bring  him 
to  personal  disgrace.  No,  he  is  authority  on  all  sub- 
jects, an  expert  in  all  arts,  an  adept  in  all  affairs;    I 


Noel  Jones.  147 

do  not  know  of  a  position  for  whose  duties  he  would 
admit  himself  to  be  incompetent,  from  that  of  a  milliner 
to  that  of  a  minister. 

In  all  my  dealings  with  the  world,  I  have  noticed  that 
the  wisest  men  make  the  smallest  pretensions.  The 
prominent  characteristic  of  all  really  great  men  is  teach- 
ableness— readiness  to  learn  of  everybody,  respect  for 
the  opinions  of  others,  and  modesty  touching  their  own 
attainments.  Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  so  far  from  being 
a  vain  or  pretentious  man,  that  he  had  the  humblest 
estimate  of  his  own  knowledge.  Baron  Humboldt  was 
as  simple  and  unpretending  as  a  child.  There  are  men 
among  the  living  in  this  country — the  mention  of  whose 
names  is  not  necessary  to  call  up  their  faces — whose  ex- 
ceeding simplicity  is  only  equalled  by  their  exceeding 
wisdom.  A  pretentious  man  is,  by  token  of  his  preten- 
tiousness, a  charlatan  always.  A  man  needs  only  to  be 
wise  to  have  learned  that  no  man  in  the  world  monopo- 
lizes its  wisdom,  and  that  there  is  no  man  living  who 
cannot  teach  him  something.  Human  faculty  and 
human  life  are  hardly  sufficient  for  learning  one  thing 
thoroughly.  Each  man  pursues  his  specialty,  learning 
something  of  it  while  he  lives ;  and  though  he  may 
gather  much  in  general  touching  the  spec:  ilties  of  others, 
he  gets  little  knowledge  of  detail  out  of  h"5  own  work. 

Noel  Jones  ought  to  have  seen  enough  rf  the  world  to 
know  that  it  is  full  of  larger  men  than  ht  <?>,  or  can  ever 
hope  to  be.     He  ought  to  know  enoug''  of  the?*"  men 


148  Coiicerfiing  the  Jones   Family. 

by  this  time,  to  understand  that  no  pretension  of  his 
can  raise  him  to  their  altitude,  or  bring  him  into  com- 
munion with  them.  The  true  position  for  him  and  for 
me,  and  for  everybody — wise  or  simple — is  that  of  a 
learner.  Many  years  ago,  as  a  young  physician  was 
standing  by  the  bedside  of  a  sick  little  child,  in  the 
dirty  hovel  of  one  who  was  very  poor,  he  was  asked  by 
a  coarse -looking  Irish  woman  who  had  come  in  to  do  a 
neighborly  office,  and  was  standing  at  the  opposite  side 
of  the  bed,  whether  he  thought  the  patient  that  lay 
gasping  between  them  would  live.  He  replied  that  he 
did  not  think  that  he  could  live  until  the  next  morning. 
There  was  a  shrewd  twinkle  in  her  black  eyes,  and 
a  positive  tone  in  her  voice  as  she  expressed  an  oppo- 
site opinion,  and,  at  the  same  time  gave  her  reasons  for 
it.  He  went  away  and  thought  about  it ;  and  the  more 
he  thought,  the  more  he  became  convinced  that  this  ig- 
norant Irish  woman  had  been  a  better  student  of  disease 
than  he  had,  and  that  her  observations  of  previous  cases 
must  have  been  both  intimate  and  extensive.  He  gave 
to  her  reasons  their  scientific  significance,  and  before 
he  reached  his  office  he  had  become  prepared  to  meet 
what  he  had  supposed  to  be  a  dying  patient  a  convales- 
cent the  next  morning.  He  did  find  the  patient  a  con- 
valescent, and  left  him  at  last  with  a  valuable  addition 
to  his  knowledge  of  symptoms,  beyond  what  books  and 
his  own  observation  had  ever  taught  him.  He  learned 
a  second  lesson  by  this  incident  quite  as  valuable   to 


Noel  Jones.  149 

him,  personally,  as  the  first  It  was,  never  to  regard  as 
valueless  the  opinions  of  the  ignorant,  when  they  are 
based  on  observation,  until  he  had  given  them  a  fair  and 
thorough  investigation. 

This  ignorant  woman  had  a  right  to  her  opinion.  She 
had  earned  it,  for  she  had  studied.  She  may  have 
known  nothing  else  particularly  worth  knowing,  but 
this  golden  bit  of  wisdom  she  had  won,  and  the  profes- 
sors and  teachers  of  medicine  everywhere  would  have 
honored  themselves  by  humbly  learning  it  of  her. 
Every  great  and  wise  brain  that  lives  bows  to  and 
honors  the  humblest  hand  that  brings  it  food  and  in- 
spiration ;  but  the  position  which  Noel  Jones  assumes 
is  an  insult  to  all  the  humble  life — not  to  say  high  life — 
by  which  he  is  surrounded.  There  are  one  or  two 
things — perhaps  half  a  dozen — which  he  knows  better 
than  others.  Upon  these,  men  come  to  him  for  infor- 
mation ;  but  they  know  that  all  others  about  which  he 
pretends  to  know  so  much  he  really  knows  nothing. 
Mr.  Jones  should  let  his  neighbors  estimate  him.  They 
recognize  him  their  superior  in  one  or  two  points  only. 
Let  him  be  thankful  that  there  are  one  or  two  things 
which  he  really  knows,  and  which  he  can  offer  in  ex- 
change for  the  world  of  knowledge  which  the  multitudi- 
nous life  around  him  has  found  and  proved.  He  has 
his  specialties  and  other  men  have  theirs ;  and  they 
know,  and  he  ought  to  know  and  practically  to  acknowl- 
edge, that  all  the  men  he  meets  have  just  as  much  ad  van- 


150         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

tage  over  him  as  he  has  over  them.  It  is  the  habit  to 
speak  sneeringly  of  the  poverty  of  human  knowledge, 
but  human  knowledge  is  not  poor  in  the  aggregate.  It 
is  the  individual  man  who  knows  so  little ;  mankind 
knows  much.  If  every  man  could  bring  to  a  common 
depository  his  special  discovery,  and  the  results  of  his 
particular  thinking  and  working,  and  there  were  a  mind 
large  enough  to  comprehend  and  systematize  the  mass, 
with  a  life  sufficiently  long  for  the  enterprise,  it  would 
be  found  that  human  knowledge  is  as  great  as  humanity  it- 
self. Those  little  books  of  wisdom  contained  in  the  minds 
of  his  humble  neighbors  are  open  to  him,  and  he  owes 
it  to  himself  and  to  them  to  read  them  with  reverence. 

I  have  said  that  the  prominent  characteristic  of  all 
really  great  and  wise  men  is  teachableness.  I  may  add 
to  this  that  without  teachableness  there  can  be  no  true 
greatness,  for  greatness  consists,  not  in  great  powers 
alone,  but  in  the  power  to  appropriate,  and  in  the  deed 
of  appropriating,  the  wisdom  made  ready  for  it  by 
other  minds.  For  a  great  man,  a  thousand  minds  are 
thinking,  a  thousand  hands  are  working,  a  thousand 
lives  are  living ;  and  the  result  of  all  this  thinking  and 
working  and  living  come  to  him  and  pass  into  his  life, 
contributing  to  his  growth  and  feeding  his  power.  The 
canal  that  crosses  an  empire,  and  feeds  the  roots  of  a 
score  of  springing  cities,  and  gives  passage  to  the  bread 
of  a  continent,  and  swells  the  revenues  of  a  state,  has  its 
unseen   and   unacknowledged   feeders,   that   collect  its 


Noel  Jones.  151 

waters  among  the  mountains,  and  pour  them  into  its 
trailing  volume,  and  keep  it  always  full.  A  great  man 
lays  every  mind  with  which  he  comes  into  contact  under 
tribute.  Great  listeners  are  such  men — absorbent  of 
every  drop  of  common  sense  and  even  the  faintest  spray 
of  human  experience.  Unerring  ears  have  they,  to  dis- 
tinguish between  the  true  and  the  false  in  the  coins  that 
are  tossed  upon  their  counter.  Finding  a  man  who  has 
successfully  pursued  some  specialty  in  knowledge  or  art, 
they  suck  his  mind  as  they  would  suck  an  orange,  throw- 
ing away  cells  and  seeds,  and  drinking  the  juice  for  nu- 
triment and  refreshment.  Noel  Jones  does  not  see  that 
it  is  not  the  policy  of  such  men  as  these  to  be  preten- 
tious. They  could  not  afford  it,  even  were  they  dis- 
posed to  be. 

The  man  who  takes  the  position  of  Noel  Jones  must 
necessarily  go  through  life  at  a  disadvantage.  His  pol- 
icy drives  men  from  him.  Pretentiousness  is  always 
and  everywhere  an  insult  to  society.  He  repels  the 
knowledge  that  naturally  flows  to  one  who  pretends  to 
nothing.  Nobody  goes  to  him  with  a  suggestion,  be- 
cause his  attitude  repels  suggestions.  He  assumes  to 
possess  all  the  knowledge  that  he  needs.  All  that  he 
learns  outside  of  the  specialty  which  absorbs  the  most 
of  his  active  power,  he  is  obliged  to  learn  by  book,  or 
by  some  trick  of  indirection.  He  thinks  that  he  can 
only  appear  to  be  wise  by  assuming  to  be  wise,  and  it 
is  possible  that  he  is  right.     It  is  possible  that  he  im- 


152         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

poses  upon  a  few  who  would  otherwise  hold  him  for  a 
very  common  sort  of  person  ;  but  all  the  reputation  for 
wisdom  he  may  secure,  can  never  compensate  for  what 
he  loses  by  cutting  off  these  voluntary  supplies.  Water 
flows  naturally  into  the  humble,  open  spaces ;  it  never 
seeks  the  mountains,  except  to  run  around  them.  Self- 
love,  self-conceit,  pride  of  opinion — all  these  are  bar- 
riers to  knowledge  and  barriers  to  success.  During  his 
brief  life  he  has  suffered  from  many  grave  mistakes, 
which,  had  he  been  a  teachable  man,  might  easily  have 
been  avoided.  His  position  repelled  all  information  vol- 
untarily offered,  and  his  pride  forbade  him  to  seek  for  it 
at  the  only  available  source.  He  has  blundered  through 
experiments  whose  results  could  have  been  given  him 
by  a  dozen  of  his  neighbors,  who  took  a  secret  satisfac- 
tion in  witnessing  his  expensive  failures.  He  is  the  wise 
man  only  who,  holding  himself  unselfishly  tributary  to 
the  lives  of  others,  lays  hold  of  and  appropriates  the 
wisdom  won  by  the  life  around  him.  It  should  be  in 
life  as  it  is  in  science  :  if  I  read  the  record  of  a  series 
of  experiments  by  which  a  certain  scientific  result  is 
arrived  at,  I  do  not  feel  myself  humbled  by  the  discov- 
ery, nor  humbled  by  using  the  discovery  for  my  own 
advantage.  I  contribute  freely  of  my  own  work,  I  ap- 
propriate freely  the  results  of  the  work  of  others — as  a 
member  of  the  great  commonwealth  of  life.  It  is  a  noble 
thing  to  teach  ;  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to  learn. 

I  have  told  Mr.  Jones  that  there  are  probably  one  or 


Noel  Jones.  153 

two  things  about  which  he  knows  more  than  others,  and 
touching  which  his  opinions  are  more  valuable  than 
those  of  others.  These  things  his  talents  have  given 
him  special  power  to  learn,  and  circumstances  have 
conspired  to  give  him  sufficient  opportunity.  There  are 
ten  thousand  things  on  which  he  assumes  to  have  an 
opinion  which  he  can  never  have  a  valuable  opinion 
upon.  He  has  not  those  peculiar  gifts  which  will  enable 
him  to  acquire  experimental  knowledge  of  them.  He 
pretends  to  know  something  of  finance,  for  instance, 
but  it  is  not  possible  for  him  to  comprehend  finance. 
No  matter  how  much  he  may  run  against  the  business 
world — the  whole  of  his  financial  wisdom  will  consist  of 
familiarity  with  common  business  forms,  and  the  grasp 
of  the  general  fact  that  if  a  man  spends  more  than  he 
earns  he  loses  money,  while  if  he  earns  more  than  he 
spends  he  is  making  it.  He  pretends  to  possess  good 
literary  judgment  and  taste,  but  he  may  study  from  this 
time  until  doomsday,  and  he  will  never,  working  by 
himself,  win  either.  A  life  of  study  with  relation  to 
some  arts  will  not  win  for  him  what  the  instincts  of 
some  men  will  teach  them  in  a  moment.  He  has  his 
special  knowledge  : — talent  and  opportunity  have  given 
it  to  him.  There  is  an  indefinitely  large  range  of 
life  in  which  he  can  never  discover  anything  that 
will  be  of  the  slightest  value  to  him  or  to  others. 
There  is  an  infinitely  large  range  of  life  through 
which  he  must  be  led  by  other  minds,  or  he  will  never 
7* 


i54         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

explore  them  at  all.  The  bird-fancier  with  whom  1 
walk  in  the  fields  is  a  humble  person.  I  may  talk  of 
literature,  or  art,  or  science,  or  politics,  and  he  will 
show  no  sign  of  interest  or  intelligence  ;  but  if  I  talk  of 
birds  he  becomes  my  teacher — nay,  for  the  time  being, 
my  king.  The  air  around  him  is  full  of  creatures  whose 
habits  and  characteristics  he  knows.  He  can  pour  out 
to  me  a  tide  of  beautiful  knowledge,  for  the  acquirement 
of  which  nature  has  given  him  the  needed  eyes,  and 
ears,  and  apprehensions.  He  knows  the  note  of  every 
bird,  the  nest  of  every  bird,  the  plumage  of  every  bird. 
He  has  possessed  himself  of  their  secrets,  so  that,  imita- 
ting their  language,  and  taking  the  advantage  over  them 
which  reason  gives  him,  he  can  entrap  them.  No  un- 
common bird,  be  it  never  so  small,  can  invade  his 
neighborhood  without  his  detecting  it ;  and  he  marks 
the  retirement  of  a  family  from  the  region  that  they 
have  frequented,  as  if  they  belonged  to  his  own  species, 
and  had  advertised  their  departure.  Now,  this  man's 
knowledge  may  be  humble,  but  it  is  genuine  ;  and  it  is 
knowledge  which,  without  his  help,  no  one  of  us  could 
have  acquired.  Mr.  Noel  Jones,  for  instance,  would 
never  have  thought  of  studying  birds  any  more  than  he 
would  have  thought  of  studying  the  insects  that  slide  up 
and  down  the  sunbeams  before  his  door. 

Knowledge  is  a  very  precious  possession,  and  always 
dignifies  its  possessor.  The  theorists  of  all  ages  have 
filled  the  world  with  words,  and  the  pulpit,  and  tbr  li 


Noel  Jones.  155 

brary,  and  the  school  are  thronged  with  words  that  rep- 
resent more  or  less  of  the  material  and  the  spiritual 
worlds  ;  but  knowledge  does  not  come  from  the  pulpit, 
or  the  library,  or  the  school.  To  know  a  thing  is  to  live 
a  thing — is  to  come  into  personal  contact  and  acquaint- 
ance with  a  thing  through  the  use  of  powers  adapted  to 
win  acquaintance  by  contact.  I  have  seen  grave  doc- 
tors, and  literary  men,  and  clergymen,  and  shrewd  busi- 
ness men  listen  for  hours  to  the  talk  of  a  man  who  knew 
nothing  but  the  habits  of  a  horse,  and  the  means  of 
making  that  animal  the  kind  and  healthy  servant  of 
man ;  and,  although  he  could  not  construct  a  sentence 
of  English  elegantly,  they  listened  as  intently  as  if  he 
were  reciting  the  choicest  poem  in  the  language  with 
the  unction  of  a  Kemble,  forgetful  alike  of  his  provincial 
pronunciation  and  his  incorrect  English.  These  men 
were  learners.  They  had  found  a  man  who  knew  some- 
thing. He  had  been  studying  the  horse  all  his  life  for 
them — studying  the  horse  in  the  stable  ;  and  they  were 
drinking  in  that  which  they  felt  to  be  positive  knowledge. 
It  was  worth  more  than  all  the  books  on  that  subject 
they  had  ever  read,  and  worth  more  than  all  their  ob- 
servation,  because  they  had  not  the  proper  powers  for 
studying  the  horse  by  contact.  It  is  thus  that  every 
man  is  studying  something  for  every  other  man— gaining 
absolute  knowledge  by  contact  with  special  departments 
of  material  existence,  or  by  demonstrating  spiritual 
truth  in  personal  experience. 


I  $6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

If  Noel  Jones  really  imagines  that  he  knows  so  much 
that  he  does  not  need  to  seek  advice  or  ask  for  knowl- 
edge, even  at  the  hands  of  the  humblest  man  with  whom 
he  is  thrown  into  relation,  he  must  change  his  opinion 
and  his  policy.  He  really  knows  very  little,  and  he  can 
obtain  no  valuable  addition  to  his  positive  knowledge 
without  laying  those  under  tribute  whose  knowledge  has 
been  won  as  his  has  been  won.  Or  if  he  imagines  that 
he  has  powers  adapted  to  discovery  and  demonstration 
in  all  the  varied  fields  of  knowledge,  he  must  relieve 
himself  of  that  mistake.  He  has  not  even  the  powers 
necessary  to  make  a  bird-catcher  or  a  horse-tamer  ;  and 
when  he  fancies  that  he  could  be  a  speaker  of  Congress, 
or  a  writer  for  the  press,  or  a  preacher,  or  a  Secretary 
of  the  Treasury,  if  he  only  had  the  opportunity  for  the 
development  or  the  trial  of  his  powers,  he  is  simply  per- 
mitting his  self-conceit  to  befool  him.  Let  him  be  con- 
tent with  his  specialty,  and  bear  me  witness  that  even 
the  bird-fancier  and  the  horse-tamer  have  dignity  and 
honor  which  he  has  hardly  won  in  the  high  field  in  which 
Providence  has  placed  him,  and  to  which  his  powers  are 
especially  adapted.  Let  him  conquer  his  specialty,  and 
take  gratefully  from  other  hands  the  knowledge  and  wis- 
dom which  he  has  neither  the  time  nor  the  power  to 
acquire. 

No,  Mr,  Noel  Jones  does  not  know  pretty  much  every- 
thing. Indeed  he  knows  but  a  very  few  things  thor- 
oughly, and  he  would  now  know  a  great  deal  more  than 


Noel  Jones.  157 

he  does  if  he  had  never  pretended  to  know  anything. 
All  sensible  people  measure  him.  They  give  him  credit 
for  being  an  ordinarily  acute  and  wise  man — the  greatest 
drawback  on  his  reputation  being  his  assumption  of 
knowledge  that  he  does  not  possess,  while  the  only  bar 
to  his  popularity  resides  in  his  unwillingness  to  give  to 
men  and  women  the  place  and  consideration  to  which 
their  specialties  of  talent  and  knowledge  entitle  them. 


RUFUS   CHOATE  JONES, 

LAWYER. 

CONCERNING   THE  DUTIES  AND  DANGERS  OF  HIS 
PROFESSION, 

MR.  JONES  has  recently  commenced  the  practice  of 
a  profession  of  which  I  possess  no  intimate  knowl- 
edge. I  know,  generally,  that  it  is  a  respectable  profes- 
sion, which  requires  in  those  who  successfully  pursue  it 
the  best  style  of  intellectual  power,  thorough  industry, 
and  a  vast  amount  of  special  learning.  I  know  that  it  is 
a  profession  which  in  times  of  peace  attracts  to  itself  the 
most  ambitious  young  men,  because  it  affords  the  best 
opportunities  for  rising  to  positions  of  influence  and 
power.  I  know  also,  that  while  it  is  prostituted  to  the 
basest  uses — as  any  profession  may  be — it  fills  a  want  in 
the  establishment  of  justice  between  man  and  man,  and 
occupies  a  legitimate  and  an  important  place  in  society. 
I  can  very  honestly  congratulate  him  on  his  connection 
with  his  profession  and  his  prospects  in  it.  Will  he 
kindly  read  what  a»  PUtsJd^r  ba§  to  say  of  its  dangers 
and  duties  } 


Rufus  Choate  Jones.  159 

The  principal — perhaps  the  only — dangers  which  lie 
in  his  way  relate  to  his  personal  character.  I  regard 
him  as  a  Christian  young  man,  and  I  find  him  in  a  pro- 
fession which  necessarily  brings  him  into  contact  with 
the  meanest  and  the  vilest  elements  in  the  community. 
Almost  every  day  of  his  life  he  finds  himself  in  commu- 
nication with  men  whose  motives  are  vile  and  whose 
characters  are  base.  He  is  obliged  to  associate  with 
them.  He  not  unfrequently  finds  his  interests  and  sym- 
pathies engaged  in  their  behalf.  Almost  the  whole  edu- 
cation of  the  court-room — to  say  nothing  of  the  office — • 
is  an  education  in  the  ways  of  sin.  It  is  there  that  mur- 
der and  robbery,  and  adultery  and  swindling,  and  cruelty, 
and  all  the  forms  of  crime  and  vice  are  exposed  to 
their  minutest  details,  and,  as  a  lawyer,  he  is  necessarily 
absorbed  by  these  details.  There  is  not  a  form  of  vice 
with  which  he  is  not  bound  to  become  familiar.  All  the 
meanness,  and  all  the  rottenness  of  human  nature  and 
human  character,  and  all  the  modes  of  their  exhibition, 
must  come  into  contact  with  him  and  leave  their  mark. 
How  this  can  be  done  without  the  blunting  of  his  sensi- 
bilities I  do  not  know.  How  this  can  be  done  without 
damaging,  if  not  destroying,  his  moral  sense,  is  beyond 
my  comprehension.  I  have  heard  very  good  lawyers 
talk  about  the  most  shocking  cases  in  a  shockingly  pro- 
fessional way,  and  witnessed  their  amusement  with  the 
details  of  some  beastly  case  that  had  found  its  way  into 
the  court-room.     I  should  be  very  sorry  to  think  that 


i6o        Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

our  young  lawyer  could  ever  acquire  such  moral  indiffer- 
ence, yet  I  know  that  he  may,  and  believe  that  he  will, 
if  he  does  not  guard  himself  particularly  against  it. 

It  seems  to  me  quite  impossible  that  a  man  should 
have  a  professional  interest  in  the  details  of  a  case  of 
crime  without  losing  something  of  the  moral  repug- 
nance with  which  the  case  would  naturally  inspire  him. 
I  suppose  that  this  loss  of  moral  sensibility  may  not 
necessarily  be  accompanied  by  actual  depravity,  yet  it 
is,  nevertheless,  an  evil,  for  it  destroys  one  of  the  bar- 
riers to  depravity.  Any  influence  which  familiarizes  the 
mind  with  sin  and  crime  to  such  an  extent  that  sin  and 
crime  cease  to  fill  the  soul  with  horror  or  disgust,  is 
much  to  be  deprecated.  If  he  had  a  young  son  or  a 
young  daughter,  he  would  regard  any  event  which  would 
bring  their  minds  into  familiarity  with  crime  as  a  calam- 
ity. It  would  probably  be  a  greater  calamity  to  them 
than  to  him,  but  why  it  should  be  different  in  kind,  I 
cannot  tell.  I  think  he  has  only  to  look  around  him, 
among  his  own  profession,  to  find  men  who  have  re- 
ceived incurable  damage  through  their  professional  inti- 
macy with  sin.  He  must  know  numbers  of  lawyers  who 
take  an  interest  which  is  anything  but  professional  in 
the  details  of  a  case  of  shame  that  ought  to  fill  them 
with  an  abhorrence  so  deep  that  they  would  gladly  fly 
from  it 

Again,  constant  familiarity  with  the  weak  and  the 
erring  side  of  human  nature  destroys  respect  for  human 


Rufus  Choate  Jones.  i6i 

nature  itself.  The  more  Mr,  Jones  learns  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  legal  profession,  the  more  he  will  learn  that 
great  numbers  of  them  have  ceased  to  respect  human 
nature.  This  seems  to  me  to  be  one  of  the  greatest 
calamities  that  can  befal  any  man.  I  do  not  wonder  at 
this  effect  at  all.  There  is  no  class  of  people  in  the 
world  that  see  so  great  cause  to  hold  human  nature  in 
contempt  as  the  legal.  They  come  into  contact  with 
men  whom  the  world  calls  honorable  and  good,  and  find 
in  them  such  traits  of  meanness,  and  such  hypocrisy 
and  dishonor,  and  such  readiness  to  be  crippled  under 
temptation,  and  such  untruthfulness  under  the  pressure 
of  self-interest,  that  they  naturally  enough  conclude  that 
one  man  is  about  as  bad  as  another,  and  that  no  man  is 
to  be  relied  upon  where  his  appetites  or  his  selfish  in- 
terests are  concerned.  I  say  that  I  do  not  wonder  at 
this,  but  it  is  much  to  be  deprecated  ;  and  I  know  of  no 
way  to  avoid  it,  except  by  free  association  with  good 
men  and  innocent  women  and  children.  When  a  man 
has  lost  his  respect  for  human  nature,  he  has  lost,  ne- 
cessarily, his  respect  for  himself,  for  whether  he  wills  it 
or  not,  he  goes  with  his  kind. 

But  there  is  another  danger  still  which  will  assail  him, 
more  subtle  and  more  damaging  than  professional  in- 
terest in  crime,  or  professional  intimacy  with  the  worst 
side  of  human  nature,  and  this  is  professional  interest  in 
criminals  themselves.  I  am  sorry  to  sayit,  but  he  will 
find   himself  the  professional  defender  of  men  whom 


1 62         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

he  knows  to  be  the  foes  of  society — of  thieves,  pick- 
pockets, gamblers,  murderers,  seducers,  swindlers.  He 
will  find  himself  either  lying  or  tempted  to  lie  in  order 
to  shield  from  justice  men  who  he  knows  ought  to  be 
punished.  He  will  find  himself  arrayed  against  law  and 
order,  against  the  peace  of  the  commonwealth,  against 
the  purity  of  society,  against  morals  and  religion,  in 
the  defence  of  a  man  whom  he  knows  to  be  guilty  of 
the  crime  charged  against  him,  and  deserving  of  the 
punishment  attached  to  it  by  the  laws  of  the  land.  I 
say  "  he,"  because  I  suppose  he  will  naturally  follow  in 
the  track  of  the  principal  members  of  his  profession. 
Every  criminal  is  defended  to  the  utmost  by  men  who 
are  zealous  in  their  attempt  to  prove  him  innocent,  and 
to  shield  him  from  punishment.  Great  professional 
reputations  are  sometimes  acquired  by  saving  from  the 
gallows  a  man  who  everybody  is  morally  certain  ought 
to  be  hanged.  A  triumph  of  crime  like  this  is  quoted 
admiringly  by  the  profession,  and  regarded  with  com- 
placent triumph  by  the  professional  victor.  I  have 
heard  men  talk  by  the  hour  to  prove  that  to  be  true 
which  they  and  everybody  else  knew,  in  all  moral  cer- 
tainty, to  be  false,  and  to  demonstrate  the  innocence  of 
a  man  whom  they  knew  to  be  guilty.  Indeed  this  mode 
of  proceeding  has  become  a  part  of  the  machinery  of 
the  law,  and  is  recognized  as  entirely  legitimate.  We 
hear,  occasionally,  of  cases  so  bad  that  the  counsel  en- 
gaged  in  the  defence  throw  them   up  in   disgust ;  but 


Rufus  Choate  Jones.  163 

these  are  very  rare,  and  I  doubt  whether  such  a  surren- 
der is  regarded  as  a  fair  thing  by  the  profession. 

Now  I  ask  him,  before  professional  usage  has  had 
time  to  warp  his  common  sense,  what  must  be  the  effect 
upon  the  mind  of  an  advocate,  of  throwing  the  entire 
sum  of  his  personal  power  into  the  defence  of  a  man 
who,  he  has  good  reason  to  believe,  is  a  foe  to  law  and 
order,  and  justly  deserving  of  punishment  for  a  breach 
of  both  ?  What  must  be  the  effect  of  identifying  his 
own  personal  and  professional  reputation  with  the  suc- 
cess of  a  criminal,  in  his  attempt  to  shield  himself  from 
justice  ?  What  must  be  the  effect  upon  his  mind  of  a 
triumph  over  the  law  for  himself,  and  for  him  who  has 
trampled  it  under  his  feet  ?  I  know  that  there  is  a  spe- 
cious style  of  argument  in  use  in  his  profession  which 
takes  the  decision  of  a  case  out  of  the  hands  of  a  crim- 
inal's professional  defender,  and  gives  it  to  the  jury 
before  which  he  is  to  be  tried.  The  lawyers  will  say 
that  an  advocate  has  no  right  to  decide  on  the  guilt  of  a 
man  on  trial — that  his  work  is  to  defend ;  and  that 
twelve  men,  whose  business  under  the  law  it  is,  will 
make  the  decision.  This  is  strictly  professional  talk — 
the  talk  of  men  who  make  a  distinction  between  law  and 
justice — the  talk  of  men  who  stand  by  that  which  is 
simply  legal,  and  let  justice  and  right  take  care  of 
themselves.  These  men  would  say  that  if  they  were  en- 
gaged in  the  defence  of  a  person  who  they  were  morally 
certain  was  guilty  of  the  crime  charged  upon  him,  they 


1 64         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

would  not  be  excusable  did  they  not  do  what  they  could 
to  save  him,  by  a  resort  to  every  legal  trick  and  quibble 
of  which  they  might  be  the  masters.  This  is  precisely 
what  they  do.  They  personally  rejoice  in  the  defeat  of 
justice.  Whenever  justice  is  defeated,  and  right  denied 
or  destroyed,  in  ''  a  court  of  justice,"  there  is  always 
present  one  lawyer  to  rejoice  personally  over  the  fact — a 
lawyer  whose  sympathies  and  success  are  identified  with 
the  triumph  of  the  wrongdoer. 

I  remember,  when  a  lad,  witnessing  an  interview  be- 
tween a  couple  of  young  lawyers, — each  of  whom  has 
come  to  great  personal  and  political  honor  since  then, — 
which  to  my  unsophisticated  moral  sense,  was  quite 
shocking.  One  had  been  attending  a  term  of  court  in  an 
adjoining  county,  for  the  management  of  an  important 
case  in  which  both  were  interested.  The  returning 
lawyer  greeted  his  associate  with  a  triumphant  flourish 
of  his  riding  stick,  and  exclaimed:  "We've  beaten 
them  !  we've  beaten  them  ! "  Thereupon  they  gleefully 
talked  the  matter  over.  It  seemed  very  strange  to  me 
that  they  could  rejoice  at  having  "beaten  them,"  with- 
out the  slightest  reference  to  the  matter  of  justice  and 
right.  If  the  man  had  been  engaged  in  a  personal  fight 
or  a  horse-race,  and  had  come  off  the  winner,  he  would 
have  expressed  his  triumph  in  the  same  way,  and  with 
just  as  little  reference  to  the  moral  aspects  and  relations 
of  the  case.  This  was  a  professional  triumph,  and  it 
did  not  matter,  apparently,  whether  justice  had  shared 


Rufus  Choaie  Jones.  165 

the  victory  with  him  or  had  been  vanquished  with  his 
opponents  in  the  suit.  This  professional  indifference 
to  justice  and  to  right,  acquired  by  the  identification  of 
his  own  personal  success  with  the  safety  and  success  of 
those  whom  he  knows,  or  believes,  to  be  criminals,  is 
what  I  warn  our  young  lawyer  against.  I  tell  him  that 
this  cannot  be  indulged  in  without  injury  to  him,  and 
were  it  not  an  ungrateful  and  offensive  task,  I  could  re- 
fer him  to  illustrious  instances  of  legal  depravity,  in- 
duced by  earnest  defence  of  the  wrong.  I  could  point 
him  to  eminent  lawyers,  with  whom  lying  is  as  easy  as 
breathing — men  who  do  not  scruple  to  misrepresent, 
misconstrue,  prevaricate,  cheat,  resort  to  all  mean  and 
unworthy  subterfuges,  suppress,  make  use  of  all  availa- 
ble means  to  carry  a  point  against  law  and  good  society 
and  pure  morals,  in  favor  of  ruffians  who  deserve  noth- 
ing better  than  the  halter  or  the  prison.  A  lawyer  has 
only  to  do  this  thing  to  a  sufficient  extent  with  sufficient 
earnestness,  to  lose  both  his  sense  of  and  respect  for 
the  right,  and  to  become  morally  worthless. 

I  suppose  that  Mr.  Rufus  Choate  Jones  will  tell  me 
that  I  am  a  dreamer,  and  that  I  am  suggesting  some- 
thing that  is  entirely  impracticable,  when  I  advise  him 
never  to  permit  himself  to  be  professionally  arrayed 
against  justice.  His  seniors  in  the  profession  will  smile 
contemptuously  at  my  suggestions,  I  know,  and  I  will 
not  blame  them,  for  I  know  how  fatally  they  have  been 
warped  by  their  practice.     I  take  the  broad  ground  that 


1 66         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

no  man,  whatever  may  be  his  profession,  has  a  moral 
right  to  defeat,  or  to  strive  by  all  the  means  at  his  com- 
mand to  defeat,  the  ends  of  justice  in  the  community  in 
which  he  lives,  and  that  no  man  can  conscientiously 
identify  himself  with  the  wrong,  and  fight  earnestly  for 
its  triumph  without  inflicting  incalculable  damage  upon 
his  own  moral  sense  and  moral  character.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  he — a  professional  man — has  a  moral  right  to 
do  in  a  court  of  justice  what  I,  not  a  professional  man, 
have  no  moral  right  to  do.  I  do  not  believe  that  he  has 
a  moral  right  to  stand  up  before  a  jury,  and  try  to  mis- 
lead it  by  tricks  of  language,  by  quibbles  of  law,  by 
springing  of  false  issues,  by  engaging  their  sympathies 
at  the  expense  of  their  reason,  and  I  know  that  it  is  a 
moral  impossibility  for  him  to  do  it  without  damage  to 
himself.  Mark  my  words  :  I  do  not  advise  him  to  leave 
a  client  while  he  has  a  reasonable  doubt  of  his  guilt,  or 
a  cause  where  he  has  a  reasonable  doubt  of  its  injustice ; 
but  I  say  without  hesitation  that  when  he  becomes  con- 
vinced that  he  can  go  no  further  in  the  professional 
advocacy  of  a  man  or  a  cause,  without  arraying  himself 
against  right,  against  justice,  against  the  well-being  of 
society,  he  is  bound,  in  duty  to  God,  the  state,  and 
himself,  to  abandon  that  man  or  cause  ;  and  all  the  pro- 
fessional sophistry  which  he  and  his  professional  breth- 
ren can  muster  can  never  convince  me  to  the  contrary. 

The  fact  that  the  money  of  thieves  and  scoundrels  will 
buy  the  best  legal  service  to  be  had  is  notorious,  and  it 


Rufus  Choate  Jones.  167 

is  but  a  short  time  ago  that  it  appeared  in  evidence,  in 
a  court  of  justice,  that  a  certain  crime  was  committed 
by  a  man  who,  calculating  his  chances  for  detection,  re- 
lied upon  a  certain  lawyer  to  "get  him  off."  "Was  that 
lawyer  practically  a  friend  or  a  foe  to  society  ?  Had  he 
a  right  professionally,  or  in  any  way,  so  to  conduct  him- 
self as  to  encourage  the  commission  of  crime  ? 

But  I  leave  this  point  for  one  closely  related  to  it. 
The  whole  tendency  of  the  legal  profession,  as  it  seems 
to  me,  is  a  substitution  of  a  human  for  a  divine  rule  of 
action.  I  think  that  a  lawyer  naturally  comes  to  view 
every  action  and  every  man  from  a  legal  standpoint 
All  his  practical  dealings  with  men  are  on  a  legal  basis. 
If  there  be  a  hole  in  the  law,  large  enough  to  let  through 
his  criminal  client,  the  lawyer  will  pull  him  through.  A 
flaw  in  an  indictment  will  spoil  a  case  legally,  while 
morally  and  rationally  it  is  not  touched  at  all.  The 
lawyer  feels  justified  to  do  anything  that  is  legal,  to 
favor  his  client  or  his  cause.  His  conscience  has  come 
to  identify  that  which  is  legal  with  that  which  is  right. 
The  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect ;  the  law  of  man  is  im- 
perfect ;  and  the  lawyer's  constant  association  with  the 
latter  naturally  crowds  the  other  out  of  si^ht.  He  meas- 
ures the  actions  of  men  by  that  prescriptive  red  tape  of 
his,  and  the  standard  of  right  within  his  own  soul  is  de- 
graded. 

Litigation  is  one  of  the  evils  of  the  world,  and  is  vol- 
untarily pursued    more   to   secure    personal  will   than 


1 68  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

sound  justice.     There  are  many  cases  of  doubt  in  which 
a  suit  at  law  is  entirely  justifiable,  not  to  say  desirable  ; 
but  our  friend  is  already  old  enough  to  know  that  two- 
thirds  of  the  civil  cases  tried  would  never  find  their  way 
into  court  if  simple  justice  were  all  that   the   litigants 
were   after.     Selfish  interest,  personal  greed,  pride  of 
purpose,  wilfulness  and  waywardness — these  are  the  mo- 
tives and  elements  of  litigation  everywhere.     Now  it  is 
the  misfortune  of  the  legal  profession,  that  its  revenue 
is  very  largely  dependent  upon  the  selfishness  and  stub- 
bornness of  men.     It  is  apparently  for  the  personal  in- 
terest of  the  lawyer  to  foster  a  litigious  spirit  in  the 
community,  and  to  nurse  every  cause  of  difference  be- 
tween men.     That  this  is  done  by  the  more  disreputable 
of  his  profession,  I  presume  he  will  admit ;  and  I  am 
sure  that  he  will  not  deny  that  the  better  class  of  law- 
yers do  not  discourage  litigation  as  much  as  they  might. 
Here  is  a  duty  which  I  trust  our  young  friend  will  not 
avoid.     If  he  can  prevent  a  lawsuit  between  citizens,  in 
which  no  important  end  of  justice  is  involved,  or  settle  a 
difference  which  is  more  a  question  of  personal  will  than 
of  right,  then,  as  a  Christian  man  and  a  good  citizen. 
he  is  bound  to  interfere  at  whatever  personal  sacrifice. 
If  I  were  to  foster  a  legal  quarrel  between  neighbors, 
which  my  advice  would  prevent,  he  would  call  me  a  bad 
neighbor  and  a  bad  citizen.     The  fact  that  it  is  for  his 
professional  interest  that  neighbors  quarrel,  does  not  re. 
lieve  him  from  the  same  opprobrium  for  the  same  mean 


Rufus  Choate  Jones.  169 

offence.  There  is  not  a  man  in  the  world  so  well  situ- 
ated for  promoting  the  ends  of  peace  between  citizens  as 
the  lawyer,  and  if  he  does  not  avail  himself  of  his  oppor- 
tunities, then  he  fails  in  the  offices  of  good  citizenship. 

I  hesitate  to  speak  of  one.of  the  dangers  to  which  he 
is  exposed,  because  it  supposes  that  he  can  cease  to  be 
a  gentleman  ;  but  he  will  find  that,  in  the  court  room, 
lawyers  not  unfrequently  indulge  in  practices  which, 
while  they  may  be  strictly  legal,  are  not  gentlemanly. 
I  declare  to  him  that  I  have  witnessed  more  cowardly 
insolence  in  a  court-room  than  in  any  other  place  that 
pretended  to  be  controlled  by  the  laws  of  decency.  I 
have  seen  men  whose  years  and  positions  should  have 
given  them  dignity,  browbeat  and  badger  and,  in  every 
way  sufferable  by  a  too  indulgent  court,  abuse  old,  sim- 
ple-hearted men  and  honest  women,  whose  crime  it  was  to 
be  summoned  as  unwilling  witnesses  by  the  party  oppo- 
sing them.  I  am  not  familiar  with  bar-rooms  or  broth- 
els, but  I  think  it  would  be  hard  to  find  in  any  of  them 
such  flagrant  instances  of  ill-breeding  as  are  witnessed 
at  every  term  of  court  in  every  court-room  in  the  land. 
I  do  not  care  how  high  the  lawyer  stands  who  takes  ad- 
vantage of  his  position  to  abuse  the  honest  witnesses 
which  the  law  places  in  his  hands  for  examination.  He 
is  no  gentleman — he  is  a  mean  and  cowardly  scoundrel. 
Under  the  protection  of  the  court,  he  indulges  in  prac- 
tices so  insulting  to  honest  and  blameless  men  and 
women,  that  all  there  is  within  them  of  manhood  and 
8 


I/O         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

womanhood  rises  to  resent  the  indignity,  yet  they  are 
powerless,  and  the  un whipped  coward  rubs  his  hands 
over  his  clever  boorishness  and  brutality.  For  his  own 
sake — nay,  for  decency's  sake,  I  beg  of  Rufus  Choate 
Jones  to  be  a  gentleman  in  J;he  court-room,  and  do  what 
he  can  to  compel  others  to  be  gentlemen.  This  gratui- 
tous abuse  of  those  who  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  sum- 
moned as  witnesses,  by  the  lawyers  into  whose  hands 
they  fall,  is  the  shame  and  disgrace  of  his  profession. 

Rather  a  formidable  array  of  dangers  he  will  say,  I 
imagine  ;  and  perhaps  he  will  add  that  it  is  not  a  very 
promising  display  of  duties.  I  grant  it,  but  I  seek  the 
glory  of  his  profession  and  the  good  of  himself.  The 
profession  of  the  law,  when  it  confines  itself  to  the  min- 
istry of  justice,  is  one  of  the  noblest  in  which  a  man  can 
engage.  In  that  aspect  it  is  worthy  of  the  best  minds 
which  the  country  produces ;  but  the  profession  of  law 
when  it  is  used  in  the  prostitution  of  justice  for  hire — 
when  it  is  freely  lent,  with  all  the  personal  resources  of 
him  who  practises  it,  to  aid  the  notorious  criminal  to 
escape  the  punishment  due  to  his  crimes,  and  to  thwart 
the  adjustment  of  the  right  between  man  and  man — is  an 
outrageous  nuisance.  I  would  have  him  remain  what  I 
believe  he  is  now — a  Christian  lawyer — a  man  who  can 
never  forget  that  the  royal  right  is  above  the  legal  letter ; 
that  God  lives  and  claims  a  place  in  the  human  soul ; 
and  that  he  refuses  to  live  there  side  by  side  with  venal 
falsehood.     I  would  have  him  retain,  amid  all  the  temp- 


Ritftis  Choate  Jones.  171 

tations  of  his  profession,  his  love  of  justice  and  of  right, 
and  his  hatred  of  injustice  and  wrong.  I  would  have 
him  guard  himself  against  confounding  that  which  is 
right  with  that  which  is  legal,  so  that  the  latter  shall 
always  seem  essentially  the  former.  I  would  have  him 
maintain  in  all  places  the  demeanor  of  a  gentleman.  I 
would  have  him  a  good  citizen  and  not  a  promoter  of 
litigation.  I  would  have  him  so  pure,  and  upright,  and 
honorable,  and  peace-loving,  that  men  shall  refer  their 
differences  to  him  rather  than  carry  them  into  court.  I 
do  not  wish  to  appeal  to  any  selfish  motives,  but  my 
opinion  is  that  such  a  lawyer  as  I  desire  him  to  be,  would 
command  a  premium  in  all  the  markets  of  the  world. 


MRS.   ROYAL  PURPLE  JONES. 

CONCERNING  HER  ABSORBING  DEVOTION  TO  HER 
OWN  PERSON. 

I  HAVE  a  great  respect  for  the  human  body.  As  a 
piece  of  vitalized  mechanism,  it  is  the  most  admira- 
ble thing  in  the  world.  As  the  dwelling-place  and  asso- 
ciate and  minister  of  the  human  soul — the  possessor  of 
those  exquisite  senses  through  which  that  soul  feeds  and 
breathes  and  receives  knowledge  and  inspiration ;  its 
first  home  ;  the  vestibule  of  its  immortality — I  give  it 
honor.  It  is  a  thing  of  dignity — a  sacred  thing — sacred 
to  its  possessor,  and  sacred  to  those  to  whom  in  sacred 
love  it  may  be  given.  Whenever  the  soul  rises  to  a  true 
appreciation  of  its  own  worth,  it  pays  honor  to  the  body 
which  bears  it.  Barbarism  wanders  in  negligent  naked- 
ness, but  civilization,  of  whatever  type,  honors  the  body 
— covers  it  from  sight — drapes  and  protects  it  with  refer- 
ence to  ideas  of  comfort  and  taste.  Innocence,  like 
that  possessed  by  infancy,  may  feel  no  shame  without 
drapery,  but  virtue,  a  very  different  thing,  grows  crim- 
son when  uncovered. 


Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones.  173 

The  human  body  is  a  thing  of  beauty  as  well  as  of  dig- 
nity. All  civilized  nations  have  recognized  this  fact,  and 
all  have  striven,  more  or  less  effectually,  to  reveal  or 
enhance  that  beauty  by  dress.  It  costs  almost  as  much 
to  clothe  civilization  as  it  does  to  feed  it ;  and  human 
ingenuity  is  taxed  to  its  utmost,  and  all  departments  of 
nature  are  laid  under  tribute  to  produce  the  fabrics 
with  which  civilization  enrobes  itself. 

This  domain  of  dress  is  one  which  fashion  has  con- 
quered and  made  peculiarly  her  own,  and  it  ought  to  be 
a  matter  of  interest  to  Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones,  as  I 
doubt  not  it  will  be  to  people  generally,  to  know  how  far 
that  power  has  sophisticated  the  idea  of  personal  dignity 
on  which  dress  is  based.  Up  to  a  certain  point  of 
beauty  of  fabric  and  elaborateness  of  ornamentation, 
dress  can  be  carried  legitimately,  and  with  no  violence 
to  personal  dignity ;  but  beyond  that  point  there  must 
always  come  a  resort  to  the  barbaric  idea,  which  will 
necessarily  bring  personal  degradation.  Barbarism, 
without  any  thought  of  personal  dignity  —  of  bodily 
sacredness — has  gratified  its  vanity  and  desire  for  dis- 
tinction by  means  of  marks  and  gaudy  ornaments.  It 
has  tattooed  its  skin,  hung  rings  in  its  nose,  worn  beads 
on  its  neck,  at  its  girdle,  at  its  knees,  stuck  feathers 
in  its  hair,  and  daubed  paint  upon  its  face.  This  kind 
of  ornamentation — an  exhibition  of  personal  vanity — is 
the  highest  expression  of  the  highest  idea  which  barbar- 
ism has  ever  entertained  concerning  the  human  body. 


174         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

This  vanity  touching  the  person,  that  feels  gratification 
in  ornaments  and  trappings,  has  not  the  slightest  natural 
connection  with  that  better  idea  which  finds  in  graceful 
drapery  the  refuge  and  shield  of  the  dignity  belonging 
to  the  living  tenement  of  the  living  soul.  It  will  be  seen, 
therefore,  that  whenever  fashion  carries  dress  to  ex- 
tremes, or  beyond  the  point  of  simply  giving  the  body  a 
graceful  and  becoming  covering,  it  always  resorts  to 
barbarism  to  help  it  out — to  partial  nakedness,  or  to 
jewels  and  precious  stones,  and  trinkets,  and  ribbons 
and  laces,  and  all  sorts  of  ornaments.  The  fashionable 
belle  of  Newport  and  Saratoga  enters  the  assembly  room 
or  the  dining  hall  only  to  show  that  she  is  sister  of  the 
South  Sea  Islander,  and  that  the  same  idea  controls 
them  both. 

The  curse  of  Eden  seems  to  have  been  the  subjection 
of  the  soul  to  the  service  of  the  body.  When  I  reflect 
upon  the  relative  dignity  and  importance  of  the  soul  and 
the  body — the  immortality  of  the  one  and  the  mortality 
of  the  other,  the  heavenly  alliances  of  the  one  and  the 
earthy  alliances  of  the  other,  the  Godlike  capacities  of 
the  one  and  the  brutal  appetites  of  the  other — it  aston- 
ishes me  to  realize  that  the  soul's  work  in  this  world  is, 
in  the  majority  of  cases,  simply  that  of  procuring  food 
and  raiment  and  shelter  for  the  body.  It  astonishes  me 
to  realize  that  under  every  form  of  civilization  the  body 
is  the  soul's  tyrant  and  leads  it  by  the  nose.  Naturally, 
the  body  is   uppermost  in  the  general  thought.     Men 


Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones.  175 

must  have  food  and  clothing  and  shelter,  or  die ;  they 
must  win  all  these  for  their  children,  or  lose  them.  So, 
under  the  circumstances  of  our  life,  and  the  usages  of 
our  civilization,  the  body  is  necessarily  a  constant  topic 
of  thought.  It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  soul 
often  forgets  that  it  is  master,  and  loses  sight  of  its  own 
dignity  and  destiny  in  its  habitual  devotion  to  the  satis- 
faction of  bodily  want. 

But  this  is  not  the  trouble  with  Mrs.  Jones.  She  is 
not  obliged  to  work  for  a  living.  Her  money  has  been 
earned  for  her  by  other  hands,  and  her  devotion  to  her 
body  is  voluntary  and  not  compulsory.  Her  soul,  with 
all  its  fine  capacities  and  its  possibilities  of  culture  and 
goodness,  is  the  willing  and  devoted  slave  of  the  body 
in  which  "  she  lives."  Her  person  is  the  central  motive 
of  her  life.  I  would  like  to  have  her  attempt  to  realize 
to  herself  how  much  thought  and  how  much  time  she 
devotes  to  the  hair  that  adorns  her  head.  How  much 
of  both  does  she  give  to  the  little  matter  of  eyebrows  ? 
How  much  to  her  teeth  ?  How  much  to  her  face  as  a 
whole,  with  all  the  considerations  of  cuticular  texture 
and  complexion  ?  how  much  to  her  hands  ?  how  much 
to  her  arms  ?  how  much  to  her  neck  ?  how  much  to  her 
feet  ?  how  much  to  her  general  configuration  ?  I  would 
like  to  have  her  realize  that  she  is  in  love  with  her  own 
body,  and  that  the  keenest  delight  of  her  whole  life  con- 
sists in  having  that  body  admired  and  praised.  The 
sense  of  personal  modesty  and  dignity  which  flies  to 


1/6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

dress  for  refuge  has  really  no  place  in  her.  I  do  not 
mean  that  she  is  an  immodest  woman,  but  that  this 
sense  of  personal  sacredness  has  been  overcome  by  per- 
sonal vanity  so  far  that  she  dresses  rather  to  show  than 
to  hide  her  body — to  attract  attention  to  her  person 
than  to  make  it  the  modest  and  inconspicuous  tenement 
of  her  soul.  What  is  it  that  absorbs  her  time  ?  What 
is  it  that  absorbs  her  money  ?  Is  it  not  dress  ?  Let 
her  think  of  the  silks  that  she  buys,  and  the  study  that 
she  bestows  upon  their  selection  and  manufacture  into 
garments  !  Let  her  think  of  the  hats  and  the  gloves  and 
the  jewelry,  and  of  the  intense  and  absorbing  interest 
which  attends  their  purchase  and  first  wearing !  I  think 
she  must  admit  to  herself,  if  not  to  me,  that  I  have 
found  her  out — that  I  know  where. she  has  her  life  ? 

When  she  attends  a  party,  what  is  the  highest  object 
she  contemplates  ?  Does  she  attend  for  the  purpose  of 
enjoying  the  conversation  of  dear  friends,  or  to  minister 
to  the  pleasure  of  others  by  her  own  gifts  of  conversation, 
or  to  enjoy  the  sight  of  pleasant  faces,  or  to  hear  music, 
or  to  engage  in  dancing  or  such  other  amusements  as 
may  be  indulged  in  ?  Is  it  for  all  or  for  any  of  these 
that  she  attends  ?  Is  it  not  rather  to  show  her  dress, 
and  to  display,  for  the  admiration  of  the  gentlemen  and 
the  envy  of  the  ladies  like  herself,  her  richly  draped  and 
elaborately  ornamented  person?  Would  she  have  a 
single  motive  to  attend  a  party  if  she  were  obliged  to 
dress  inconspicuously  and  plainly  ?     Is  it  not  true  that 


Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones.  177 

her  one  absorbing  thought  with  relation  to  such  attend- 
ance concerns  the  dressing  and  adornment  of  her  per- 
son ?  And  when  she  returns  from  an  assemblage,  does 
she  think  of  anything  except  the  simple  questions  as  to 
how  she  looked,  and  how  she  compared  or  contrasted 
with  certain  other  women  who,  unfortunately,  are  as 
much  devoted  to  their  persons  as  she  is  to  hers  ?  When 
she  walks  in  the  streets,  what  is  she  thinking  about  ?  Is 
she  thinking  of  what  she  sees  in  the  shop-windows,  or 
what  the  shop-windows  see  on  her  ?  Is  she  not  conscious 
that  many  eyes  are  turned  upon  her  to  see  what  she 
has  taken  great  pains  to  make  attractive  to  all  eyes  ? 
When  she  dresses  for  church,  and  when  she  enters  the 
sacred  edifice,  what  thought  is  uppermost  in  her  mind  ? 
Is  it  a  thought  which  becomes  the  holy  place,  or  is  it 
still  of  the  drapery  and  ornaments  with  which  she  has 
hung  her  person  ?  Is  she  not  filled  everywhere — under 
all  circumstances — with  these  same  vanities  ?  Do  they 
not  haunt  and  hold  her  constantly  ? 

She  need  not  blush  and  hang  her  head  because  she 
finds  that  I  know  her  better  than  she  has  hitherto 
known  herself,  for  she  has  plenty  of  company.  The 
whole  world  of  fashionable  women  is  controlled  by  the 
same  thoughts  and  ideas  that  control  her — a  world  of 
women  who,  in  the  pursuit  of  personal  adornment,  have 
adopted  the  ideas  of  barbarism,  and  have  personally 
descended  toward  barbarism  through  such  adoption. 
She,  and  all  of  her  associates,  have,  in  their  devotion  to 
8* 


178         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

the  dressing  and  bedizening  of  their  persons,  degraded 
themselves  pitifully.  The  whole  number  of  female 
fashionable  souls  are  but  slaves  to  the  fading  bodies  in 
which  they  live.  When  I  look  in  upon  a  fashionable 
watering-place,  and  see  how  dress  and  personal  adorn- 
ment absolutely  monopolize  the  time  and  thoughts  of  the 
fashionable  women  assembled  there — when  I  witness  the 
rivalry  among  them — the  attempts  to  outshine  each 
other  in  diamonds  and  all  the  tributaries  to  costly  dress 
— when  I  see  their  jealousies,  and  hear  their  ill-natured 
criticisms  of  each  other,  and  then  realize  that  these 
women  are  mothers  and  those  of  whom  mothers  will  be 
made,  I  have  opened  to  me  a  gulf  of  barbarous  selfish- 
ness— a  scene  of  gilded  meanness  and  misery — from 
which  I  shrink  back  heart-sick  and  disgusted.  Good 
Heaven!  what  are  these  women?  Are  they  all  body 
and  no  soul  ?  Is  it  decent  business  for  a  decent  soul  to 
be  constantly  engaged — absorbingly  occupied — in  orna- 
menting and  showing  off,  for  the  gratification  of  personal 
vanity,  the  body  it  inhabits  ?  Do  they  realize  how  low 
they  are  fallen  ?  Do  they  realize  that  they  are  come  to 
the  small  and  indecent  business  of  getting  up  their  per- 
sons to  be  looked  at,  admired,  praised, — that  the  most 
grateful  satisfactions  of  their  lives  are  found  in  this  busi- 
ness, and  that  the  business  itself  is  but  a  single  moral 
remove  from  prostitution  ? 

If  I  have  succeeded  in  picturing  them  to  themselves, 
perhaps  they  will  be  prepared  to  follow  me  in  a  contem- 


Mrs,  Royal  Purple  Jones.  179 

plation  of  a  few  of  the  natural  consequences  of  their  in- 
fatuation upon  their  character  and  happiness.  Are 
there  any  among  these  fashionable  women  who  are 
making  any  intellectual  progress  ?  The  thing  is  impos- 
sible. There  is  nothing  more  conducive  to  mental 
growth  and  development  in  devotion  to  the  keeping  and 
dressing  of  the  person  of  a  woman,  than  there  is  in  the 
keeping  and  the  grooming  and  harnessing  of  a  pet  horse. 
Let  us  look  at  a  man  who  devotes  himself  to  a  horse. 
He  may  be  a  very  pleasant  fellow,  and  ordinarily  intelli- 
gent, but  if  he  is  enamored  of  his  animal,  and  gives 
himself  up  to  his  care  and  exhibition,  becoming  what  is 
known  as  a  "horse  man,"  that  ends  his  intellectual  de- 
velopment. When  horse  gets  highest  in  a  man's  mind, 
culture  ceases.  Now,  it  will  make  no  difference,  practi- 
cally, to  these  women  whether  they  are  devoted  to  the 
person  of  a  horse,  or  the  person  of  a  pet  dog,  or  to  their 
own  persons.  The  mind  that  engages  in  no  higher 
business,  or  that  finds  its  highest  delight  in  no  higher 
pursuit  than  that  of  grooming  and  displaying  a  beautiful 
body,  can  make  no  progress  in  a  nobler  life.  Practi- 
cally, she  will  find  this  the  case  everywhere.  Fashion- 
able people  do  not  grow  at  all.  They  move  along  in  the 
same  old  ruts,  prate  of  the  same  old  vanities,  go  the 
same  old  rounds  of  frivolity,  and  only  become  less 
sprightly  and  agreeable  as  the  years  pass  by.  Just  what 
I  see  in  these  people  I  see  in  Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones. 
There  is  another  very  sad  result  which  comes  natu- 


tSd         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

rally  from  supreme  devotion  to  one's  person.  It  makes 
one  supremely  selfish.  Mrs.  Jones  has  permitted  her 
personal  vanity  to  control  her  so  long  that  she  really 
can  see  nothing  in  the  universe  but  herself.  It  seems 
proper  and  right  that  everybody  should  serve  her.  Any 
labor  that  would  soil  or  enlarge  her  small,  white  hands — 
any  toil  that  would  tax  the  powers  of  her  petted  body- 
any  service  for  others  that  would  draw  her  away  from 
service  to  her  own  person — is  shunned.  Her  mother, 
her  sisters,  her  friends,  are  all  laid  under  tribute  to  her, 
and  her  petulance  under  denial  has  made  them  her 
slaves.  Absorbed  by  these  thoughts  of  herself,  devoted 
to  nothing  but  herself,  making  room  for  no  plans  which 
do  not  relate  to  herself,  she  has  come  to  regard  herself 
as  the  world's  pivotal  centre.  It  does  not  occur  to  her 
at  all  that  the  kind  people  around  her  can  have  any  in- 
terests or  plans  of  their  own  to  look  after.  All  the  fish 
must  come  to  her  net,  or  she  is  unhappy  ;  and  if  those 
around  her  are  not  made  unhappy,  it  is  not  because  she 
does  not  try  to  make  them  so.  Sometimes  she  acts  like 
a  miserable,  spoiled  baby,  and  then,  under  the  spur  of 
jealousy,  she  acts  like  an  infuriated  brute.  The  ten- 
dency to  this  shameful  selfishness  is  natural  and  irresis- 
tible in  all  who  devote  themselves,  as  she  has  done,  to 
the  care  and  exhibition  of  their  persons.  Others  may 
cover  it  from  sight  more  than  she  does,  by  a  more  cun- 
ning art,  but  it  is  there.  It  cannot  be  otherwise,  and  I 
cannot  conceive  of  a  type   of  selfishness   more  nearly 


Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones.  i8i 

perfect   than   that   which  the   character   of  almost  any 
fashionable  woman  illustrates. 

There  is  still  another  result  which  naturally  flows  from 
supreme  devotion  to  the  person,  viz.,  vulgarity.  I  look 
anywhere  in  God's  world  for  genuine  refinement  and 
lady-like  instincts  and  manners  rather  than  to  what  is 
called  fashionable  society.  True  refinement  and  gentle 
manners  can  never  find  their  home  in  any  society  in 
which  selfishness  reigns.  True  refinement  has  brains ; 
true  refinement  has  a  heart.  True  refinement  always 
makes  room  in  the  world  for  others.  True  refinement 
has  consideration  for  others.  True  refinement  does  not 
find  its  satisfactions  in  the  display  and  adornment  of  the 
body.  True  refinement  refuses  to  be  governed  by  fash- 
ion, having  within  itself  a  higher  and  purer  law.  True 
refinement  shrinks  from  conspicuity  and  show.  True 
refinement  engages  in  no  unworthy  and  unwomanly 
rivalry.  Mrs.  Jones  knows  that  the  coarsest  words  that 
we  ever  hear  from  the  lips  of  women— the  harshest,  the 
meanest,  worst  things,  the  lowest  expressions — we  hear 
from  the  lips  of  those  of  her  own  set.  Yet  mark  the 
impudent  hypocrisy  of  the  thing !  She  and  her  set  as- 
sume to  be  the  leaders  of  society — the  ton — the  pattern 
women  of  the  nation — so  far  refined  that  all  other  women 
are  counted  vulgar.  Why,  how  can  she  or  they  help 
becoming  vulgar  when  they  have  been  nothing  for  years 
but  ;^eir  own  grooms  ?  How  can  she  or  they  help  be- 
coming low  when  they  have  thought  of  nothing  for  years 


1 82         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

but  their  own  persons  ?  They  are  vulgar.  All  their 
pursuits  are  vulgar.  Their  rivals  and  associates  are  vul- 
gar, and  their  ambitions  are  as  vulgar  as  those  of  the 
horse -jockey. 

I  would  not  be  misunderstood.  I  admire  a  well- 
dressed  woman.  I  admire  a  beautiful  woman,  and  I 
thoroughly  approve  all  legitimate  efforts  to  render  the 
person  both  of  man  and  woman  agreeable.  Men  and 
women  owe  it  to  their  own  dignity  to  drape  their  per- 
sons becomingly  and  well,  and  they  can  do  this  without 
acquiring  an  absorbing  passion  for  dress,  or  giving  any 
more  than  the  necessary  amount  of  thought  and  time  to 
it.  The  fact  is  that  a  woman  who  is  what  a  woman 
should  be  has  no  need  of  elaborate  personal  ornament 
to  make  her  attractive.  A  pure,  true  heart,  a  self- 
forgetfulness  of  spirit,  an  innocent  delight  in  innocent 
society,  a  wish  and  an  effort  to  please,  ready  ministry  to 
the  wants  of  others,  graceful  accomplishments  willingly 
used,  sprightliness  and  intelligence — these  are  passports 
to  personal  power.  Relying  upon  these,  there  is  no 
woman  whose  person  is  simply  and  becomingly  dressed 
who  is  not  well  dressed.  With  any  or  all  of  these,  the 
person  becomes  pleasing. 

As  I  write  there  comes  to  my  memory  the  person  of  a 
woman  whom  everybody  loved  and  admired — the  most 
thoroughly  popular  woman  I  ever  knew.  She  was  wel- 
comed alike  in  fashionable  and  refined  society,  and  be- 
haved herself  alike  in  both.     She  was  not  beautiful,  but 


Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones,  183 

she  was  charming.  She  never  ornamented  her  person, 
but  she  was  always  well  dressed.  A  simple,  well-fitted 
gown,  and  hair  tastefully  disposed,  were  all  one  could 
see  of  any  effort  to  make  her  person  pleasing,  and  these 
seemed  to  be  forgotten,  and,  I  believe,  were  forgotten, 
the  moment  she  entered  society.  When  friends  were 
around  her  she  had  no  thought  but  of  them — no  desire 
but  to  give  and  receive  pleasure.  If  she  was  asked  to 
sing,  she  sang,  and,  if  it  ministered  to  the  pleasure  of 
others,  she  sang  patiently,  even  to  weariness.  She  was 
as  intelligent  and  stimulating  in  sober  conversation  as 
she  was  playful  in  spirit ;  and  though  she  loved  general 
society  and  mingled  freely  in  it,  not  a  breath  of  slander 
ever  sullied  her  name,  and  not  an  emotion  was  ever  ex- 
cited by  her  that  did  not  do  her  honor.  Every  man  ad- 
mired and  honored  her,  and  every  woman — a  much 
greater  marvel — spoke  in  her  praise.  Many  a  belle, 
dressed  at  the  height  of  fashion,  entered  her  presence 
only  to  become  insignificant.  Diamonds  were  forgotten, 
and  splendid  dress  was  unmentioned,  while  her  sweet 
presence,  her  self-forgetful  devotion  to  the  pleasure  of 
others,  and  her  gentle  manners,  were  recalled  and  dwelt 
upon  with  unalloyed  delight. 

I  have  been  painting  from  life.  I  have  painted  Mrs. 
Jones  from  life,  and  I  have  painted  this  friend  from  life 
— a  friend  so  modest  and  so  unconscious  of  her  charms 
that  she  would  weep  with  her  sense  of  unworthiness  if 
she  were  told  that  I  had  attempted  to  paint  her.     How 


1 84         Concerning  the  jfones  Family. 

does  the  contrast  strike  Mrs.  Jones  ?  Does  she  not  see 
that  she  is  a  slave,  and  that  this  friend  is  a  free  woman  ? 
Does  she  not  see  that  the  latter  has  entered  into  the 
eternal  realities  of  things,  and  that  she  is  engrossed  in 
ephemeral  nothingnesses  ?  Does  she  not  see  that  this 
friend  is  a  refined  woman,  and  that  she  is  a  coarse  one  ? 
Does  she  not  see  that  the  unselfish  devotion  of  this 
friend  to  the  happiness  of  others  is  beautiful,  that  her 
unconsciousness  of  her  charms  is  beautiful,  that  her  sim- 
plicity is  beautiful,  and  that  her  own  selfishness  and  de- 
votion to  dress,  and  her  jealousy  and  her  rivalries,  are  all 
vulgar,  and  ugly,  and  hateful  ? 

It  is  complained  of  by  many  of  her  sex  that  men 
regard  woman  as  only  a  plaything — a  creature  to  be 
humored  and  petted  and  controlled,  and  indulged  in,  as 
a  troublesome  luxury.  It  is  complained  of  that  woman 
does  not  have  her  place  as  man's  equal — as  his  friend, 
companion,  and  partner.  Are  men  entirely  to  be 
blamed  for  this  opinion,  to  the  limited  extent  in  which  it 
is  held  ?  Suppose  men  were  to  take  Mrs.  Jones  and 
such  as  are  like  her  as  the  subject  of  their  study  :  what 
would  be  their  conclusions  ?  Suppose  they  were  thor- 
oughly to  comprehend  her  devotion  to  her  own  person, 
—  to  realize  the  absolute  absorption  of  all  her  energies 
and  all  her  time  by  the  frivolous  and  mean  objects  that 
enthrall  her — what  would  be  the  decision  ?  What  does 
Mrs.  Jones'  husband  think  about  it?  I  hope  she  will 
excuse  me  for  mentioning  him.     I  am  aware  thatjie  oc- 


Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones.  i8$ 

cupies  a  very  small  share  of  her  attention ;  but,  really, 
the  man  who  finds  her  in  money  has  a  right  to  an  opin- 
ion upon  this  point.  She  does  not  care  what  his  opinion 
is  ?  I  thought  so.  She  has  ceased  to  love  him,  and  he 
has  ceased  to  oppose  her.  It  is  impossible  for  her  hus- 
band to  love  her.  It  is  impossible  for  any  man  either 
to  love  or  to  honor  a  woman  so  selfish  as  she  is ;  and 
her  sex  may  blame  her  and  those  who  are  like  her  for 
all  the  contempt  which  a  certain  class  of  men  feel  for 
women.  She  degrades  herself  to  the  position  of  a  showy 
creature,  good  for  nothing  but  to  spend  money.  She 
teaches  men  contempt  for  her  sex,  and  it  is  only  the 
modest  and  intelligent  women  whom  she  despises  that 
redeem  it  to  admiration  and  love. 


MISS  FELICIA   HEMANS  JONES. 

CiNCERNING  HER  STRONG  DESIRE    TO  BECOME 
AN  A  UTHOR. 

I  HOPE  Miss  Jones  will  permit  me  to  reply  publicly 
to  the  private  letter  in  which  she  has  informed  me 
of  her  strong  desire  to  engage  in  literary  labor,  as  a 
form  of  self-expression  which  embraces  all  her  ambition 
apd  all  her  wish  to  do  good.  Had  her  letter  been  the 
fir-st  of  the  kind  that  had  reached  my  hand,  I  should 
not  have  ventured  to  treat  her  case  publicly  ;  I  have  re- 
ceived a  hundred  such,  and  many  of  these  came  to  me 
so  reluctantly — after  such  a  struggle  with  inclination — 
that  I  am  convinced  that  she  is  only  one  of  a  class 
which  numbers  its  thousands  in  every  part  of  the  coun- 
try. Indeed,  the  world  is  full  of  women  whose  unsatis- 
fied lives  and  whose  overflowing  natures  fill  them  with 
suggestions  of  ideal  good,  to  be  won  in  some  field  of 
art.  If  these  women  could  use  the  pencil  or  the  chisel, 
many  of  them  would  be  artists,  or  would  try  to  be 
artists  ;  but  the  pen  is  the  only  instrument  of  expres 
sion  with  which  their  fingers  are  familiar,  r.nd  they  come 


Miss  Felicia  Hentans  Jones.  187 

to  regard  it  as  their  only  resort.  I  have  a  deep  sym- 
pathy with  this  desire  to  write,  and  I  am  sure  that  Miss 
Jones  will  receive  what  I  have  to  say  of  her  as  the  words 
of  a  friend. 

She  has  a  strong  desire  to  write,  she  tells  me.  Well, 
this  power  to  write  may  be  associated  with  the  power  to 
succeed  as  a  writer,  or  it  may  not.  The  desire  to  write 
is  not  even  prima  facie  evidence  of  fitness  for  writing. 
The  desire,  as  I  have  already  intimated  to  her,  is  quite 
universal.  One  of  the  strangest  anomalies  of  human 
nature  is  exhibited  in  the  general  desire  to  do  those 
things  which  are  the  most  difficult  to  do.  A  little  man 
desires  to  do  the  work  of  a  large  man,  and  a  large  man 
desires  to  be  thought  nimble.  A  man  of  slender  limb 
desires  to  be  an  athlete.  It  is  very  common  for  men  to 
have  a  strong  desire  to  sing  or  to  play  upon  a  musical 
instrument  who  could  not  sing  or  play  with  a  century's 
practice,  because  they  have  neither  voice  nor  ear.  I 
suppose  that  nine  out  of  every  ten  of  the  students  of  our 
colleges  have  a  strong  desire  to  become  orators,  and 
they  know  how  much,  or  how  little,  the  desire  amounts 
to.  Most  probably  the  student  who  has  the  least  desire 
to  be  an  orator  of  any  one  in  his  class  is  the  one  who  is 
the  most  certain  to  become  one ;  and  perhaps  he  will 
readily  see  that  he  who  is  conscious  of  possessing  the 
orator's  native  power  has  least  occasion  to  desire  it 
Of  the  great  multitude  who  write,  she  knows  that  only  a 
few  succeed.     Nine  out  of  every  ten  fail — perhaps  even 


1 88         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

a  larger  portion  than  this.  A  very  few  of  these  fail, 
doubtless,  through  no  real  fault  of  their  own,  but 
through  unfavorable  circumstances  ;  while  the  most  of 
them  find,  to  their  mortification  and  their  cost,  that  their 
desire  to  write  misled  them  entirely  with  regard  to  the 
work  which  nature  intended  them  to  do.  So  she  sees 
that  I  do  not  think  much  of  desire  as  a  guide  to  one's 
work  in  the  world.  Indeed,  I  think  it  is  the  most  unre- 
liable index  ever  consulted. 

I  think  I  understand  the  process  through  which  the 
mind  of  Miss  Jones  is  constantly  passing.  She  takes  up 
a  book  from  the  pen  of  a  favorite  author,  and  she  is  re- 
freshed and  nourished  and  inspired  by  it.  She  is  ex- 
alted by  this  communion  with  a  highly  vitalized  and 
fruitful  mind,  and  feels  herself  longing  for  action  and 
expression  of  some  kind.  It  is  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  for  her  to  desire,  before  everything  else,  to  be 
a  writer.  She  admires  the  author  who  has  inspired  her. 
She  imagines  that  the  mind  that  has  within  it  the  powet 
to  work  such  marvels  upon  her  must  be  a  supremely 
happy  mind.  His  position  of  power  seems  very  enviable 
to  her — if  not  enviable,  very  desirable.  The  result  of 
his  efforts  upon  her  are  so  good  and  so  wonderful  that  ii 
seems  to  her  that  it  must  be  a  glorious  thing  to  work  it. 
She  longs  to  do  for  others  what  he  has  done  for  her. 
She  longs  to  be  regarded  with  love  and  admiration  as  an 
inspirer.  This  is  the  same  feeling  that  is  excited  in  a 
sensitive  mind  by  public  speakers.     Thousands  of  very 


Miss  Felicia  Hemans  Jones.  189 

commonplace  men  are  excited,  by  oratorical  efforts  in 
the  pulpit  and  on  the  platform,  to  a  strong  desire  to  be- 
come public  speakers.  The  desire  to  be  preachers,  or 
orators,  or  lecturers,  or  public  debaters,  is  always  ex- 
cited in  some  minds  by  listening  to  the  different  varie- 
ties of  public  speaking,  yet  the  most  of  these  need  only 
try  once  to  become  convinced  that  desire  is  a  very  poor 
index  to  power. 

The  desire  to  write  is  intimately  connected  with — per- 
haps it  is  one  of  the  expressions  of — the  longing  natural 
to  every  heart  to  be  recognized.  The  heart  that  loves 
men,  and  is  conscious  of  the  wish  and  the  power  to  bless 
them,  longs  for  the  recognition  of  men.  All  of  us  who 
are  good  for  anything  have  this  longing.  We  long  for 
the  recognition  of  our  real  value  ;  we  long  for  a  place  in 
the  respect  and  love  of  those  around  us.  It  is  not  un- 
frequently  true  that  those  whose  affections  have  been 
unsatisfied  at  home — whose  plans  of  domestic  life  have 
miscarried  —  or  who  are  immediately  surrounded  by 
those  who  will  not,  or  who  cannot,  sympathize  with 
them  —  who  are  every  day  associated  with  those  by 
whom  they  are  undervalued — turn  to  the  public  for  that 
which  has  been  denied  them  at  home.  I  do  not  know 
whether  I  hit  Miss  Jones'  case  in  these  remarks  or  not, 
but  I  should  think  it  strange  if  I  did  not.  It  is  not  com- 
mon for  a  woman  who  is  satisfied  in  her  affections,  who 
is  surrounded  by  sympathetic  friends,  and  who  holds  a 
good  position  securely,  to  care  for,  or  even  to  think 


I90         Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

of  recognition  beyond.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  very 
common  for  women  whose  domestic  surroundings  and 
society  are  not  satisfying,  to  look  to  other  fields  for  rec- 
ognition, and  to  none  so  commonly  as  to  that  of  au» 
thorship. 

In  her  letter  to  me  she  speaks  of  her  wish  to  do  good 
by  writing.  I  do  not  question  the  sincerity  of  the  wish. 
It  may  flow  from  the  benevolence  of  her  nature,  devel- 
oped by  Christian  culture,  or  it  may  have  been  inspired 
by  the  consciousness  of  good  received  from  the  writings 
of  others.  But  she  must  remember  that  one's  motives 
may  be  very  good  while  one's  native  gifts  may  be  but 
poorly  adapted  to  literary  effort.  Her  motives  decide 
nothing  as  to  her  power.  That  she  may  readily  see,  by 
looking  at  the  pulpit,  filled  by  men  whose  motives  are 
excellent,  while  the  power  of  one-half  of  them  has  never 
found  demonstration,  and  never  will.  I  have  some- 
times thought  that  there  were  no  preachers  in  the  field 
who  more  uniformly  have  the  noblest  motives  and  the 
most  charming  Christian  spirit  than  those  who  have  not 
the  slightest  power  in  the  pulpit.  No  person  should 
write  without  good  motives,  but  good  motives  alone 
never  made  a  good  book.  Goodish  books  are  written  in 
great  numbers  by  people  who  write  with  good  motives 
and  incompetent  brains ;  but  I  suppose  she  does  not 
care  to  write  such  books  as  these. 

I  have  made  these  remarks,  not  to  prove  to  her  that 
she  is  incompetei>t  tp  write  a  book,  and  not  for  the  pur- . 


Miss  Felicia  Hemans  Jones.  191 

pose  of  making  her  believe  that  she  is  incompetent.  I 
have  made  them  for  the  simple  purpose  of  showing  her 
that  her  strong  desire  to  write,  even  when  backed  by  the 
purest  and  most  benevolent  motives,  is  no  evidence  that 
she  can  succeed.  The  world  is  full  of  desire  to  do  good 
and  great  things,  and  it  is  not  lacking  in  worthy  motives. 
She  is  not  peculiar  in  these  things.  She  shares  them,  to 
a  greater  extent  than  she  suspects,  with  her  neighbors. 
She  would  probably  be  astonished  to  learn  how  many 
there  are  among  her  immediate  friends  who  have  been 
moved  by  the  same  desire  that  moves  her,  yet  she  may 
be  able  to  see  that  not  one  of  them  could  succeed  as  a 
writer.  There  may  be  one  among  her  friends,  too,  who 
has  not  had  any  desire  about  the  matter,  but  who  has 
written  by  a  sort  of  natural  necessity,  without  recogni- 
tion or  publication.  What  does  she  think  of  such  a 
man  as  Theodore  Winthrop,  who  wrote  quite  a  little 
library  of  books  that  could  find  no  publisher  until  he 
was  killed,  and  that  have  now  made  him  famous  ?  Such 
a  man  writes  because  it  is  a  necessity- of  his  nature  to 
write,  and  I  venture  to  say  that  he  never  sought  advice 
on  the  subject.  He  certainly  was  not  checked  in  pro- 
duction because  the  publishers  would  not  print  his 
books,  and  the  public  could  not  read  them.  Still,  it  is 
possible  that  Miss  Jones  has  just  the  native  gifts  that 
would  command  success  in  authorship,  though  I  wish 
her  to  feel  that  the  probabilities  are  against  her,  and  to 
open  her  eyes  to  these  probabilities. 


192         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

"We  will  suppose  that  she  has  those  native  gifts  which, 
under  favorable  conditions,  would  enable  her  to  succeed, 
and  we  shall  have  these  conditions  to  look  after.  The 
first  of  these  is  the  possession  of  something  of  genuine 
value  to  communicate.  Her  power  of  expression  may 
be  unsurpassed,  and  her  style  may  be  exceedingly  at- 
tractive ;  but,  unless  she  has  something  of  value  to  con- 
vey, these  will  avail  her  nothing.  What  has  she  of 
knowledge  or  wisdom  to  give  mankind  ?  How  much  has 
she  thought  and  felt  and  lived  ?  How  much  more  has 
she  thought  and  felt  and  lived  than  those  for  whom  she 
is  to  write  ?  Does  she,  in  her  character  and  in  the  gen- 
eral results  of  her  life,  stand  so  far  above  the  mass  of 
mind  around  her,  as  to  be  able  to  inspire  it  and  to  lead 
it  to  higher  ground  ?  This  question  has  a  great  deal 
more  to  do  with  her  success  in  authorship  than  that 
which  relates  to  the  desire  to  write.  Has  she  knowledge 
which  the  world  has  not,  and  which  the  world  needs  ? 
Has  her  life  led  her  through  such  paths  of  experience 
and  observation  that  she  feels  qualified  to  lead  or  direct 
others  ? 

Another  essential  condition  to  success  in  authorship  is 
time.  To  write  a  brief  poem,  or  a  clever  little  essay  for 
a  magazine  or  a  newspaper,  does  not  require  much 
time.  She  can  do  this  in  the  intervals  of  domestic 
labor.  It  would  be  quite  likely  to  sweeten  labor,  and 
give  significance  to  leisure,  to  have  on  hand  the  work  of 
embodying  in  some  good  or  graceful  form,  some  good 


Miss  Felicia  Hetnans  Jones.  193 

or  graceful  thought  for  other  eyes  ;  but  this  would  be 
playing  at  authorship.  To  succeed  in  a  field  which 
numbers  among  its  competitors  the  brightest  and  the 
best  minds  of  the  world — minds  which  devote  all  of 
their  time  to  their  work — involves  the  entire  devotion  of 
one's  time  to  the  effort.  Success  in  authorship  cannot 
be  won  without  time.  The  man  who  gains  the  ear  of 
the  world  by  the  labor  of  ten  years  may  be  accounted 
fortunate.  It  is  possible  that  an  author  may  write  a 
book  very  early  in  life  which  will  be  read,  but  it  will  be 
forgotten  within  a  shorter  time  than  he  occupied  in 
writing  it  A  book  lives  by  its  value — by  the  amount 
of  genuine  life,  or  food  for  life,  which  it  contains ;  and 
it  takes  time  to  collect  this.  Defoe,  the  author  of 
"  Robinson  Crusoe,"  was  also  the  author  of  more  than 
two  hundred  other  works,  and  it  is  more  than  likely 
that  Miss  Jones  never  heard  of  any  of  his  books  except 
this  that  I  have  named.  Yet  this  book  was  among  his 
last.  It  was  written  after  many  years  of  authorship — 
the  only  book  of  all  his  life  that  had  vitality  enough  in 
it  to  survive  him.  It  took  nearly  sixty  years  of  his  life, 
and  more  than  thirty  years  of  authorship,  to  bring  him 
where  he  could  write  Robinson  Crusoe.  Mr.  Motley, 
the  now  celebrated  historian,  began  early  as  a  novelist, 
and  his  book  failed  so  signally  that,  when  he  emerged 
from  his  obscurity  as  a  historian,  nobody  remembered 
the  novel.  Where  did  Mr.  Motley  spend  the  ten  years, 
more  or  less,  that  divided  the  issues  of  the  novel  and 
9 


^94         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

the  history  ?  He  spent  them  in  his  study,  at  his  desk, 
in  patient  labor,  giving  to  his  project  the  very  best 
years  of  his  Ufe. 

Now,  will  Miss  Jones  ask  herself  whether  she  has 
time  to  give  to  a  life  like  this  ?  Does  she  realize  how 
much  of  sacrifice  it  involves  ? — sacrifice  of  health  and 
society  and  domestic  pleasures  ?  Are  her  plainly  indi- 
cated domestic  duties  such  as  to  permit  her  to  devote 
herself  to  a  life  like  this?  Is  the  time  that  it  would 
absorb  so  entirely  at  her  disposal,  through  abundance 
of  means  for  her  support,  that  she  can  afford  to  run 
the  risks  of  authorship  ?  This  question  of  time  is  a 
very  important  one  to  a  person  who  is  poor.  A  writer 
may  devote  one  or  two  years  to  writing  a  good  book, 
and  then  look  one  or  two  years  for  a  publisher,  for  the 
best  books  by  new  authors  have  notoriously  begged  for 
publishers.  "  Waverley  "  and  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  " 
and  "Jane  Eyre"  were  all  beggars  for  publishers.  She 
would  not  be  apt  to  have  a  better  fate.  But  suppose, 
after  the  usual  working  and  waiting,  she  were  to  obtain 
a  publisher.  Then  he  waits  for  the  proper  time  to  bring 
out  his  book.  It  may  be  three  months  ;  it  may  be  a 
year.  Six  months  after  the  day  of  publication  he  will 
give  her  a  note  for  whatever  may  be  due  her  for  copy- 
right, payable  in  four  or  six  months  from  date.  Does 
she  think  that  this  is  an  exaggeration  ?  Every  author 
knows  it  is  not.  It  is  the  simple  truth,  and  many  of 
tiiem  know  that  when  the  day  of  settlement  has  come. 


Miss  Felicia  Hemans  Jones.  195 

their  copyright  amounts  to  nothing  ;  or  they  have  found 
that  their  note,  when  they  were  fortunate  enough  to  get 
one,  has  not  been  paid  at  maturity,  on  account  of  the 
failure  of  its  maker.  A  man  must  be  rich  and  inde- 
pendent, or  poor  and  desperate,  to  afford  to  write  a  first 
book.  There  are  hardly  ten  persons  among  the  fifty 
millions  of  America  who  rely  on  the  writing  of  books  for 
a  living,  and  the  most  of  those  have  a  hard  task  of  it. 
There  is  but  one  way  in  which  a  person  who  is  depend- 
ent upon  his  labor  for  a  living  can  write  a  book,  and 
that  is  to  write  it  in  the  intervals  of  labor,  which  labor  is 
devoted  to  the  simple  purpose  of  getting  a  living.  She 
will  readily  see  that  a  vrriter  thus  engaged  is  at  work 
very  disadvantageously. 

Another  condition  of  successful  writing  is  patience. 
A  man  furnished  with  all  the  necessary  means  of  sup- 
port, and  impelled  to  write  by  the  desire  which  moves 
Miss  Jones,  and  by  her  wish  to  do  good,  will  find  that, 
after  the  labor  of  a  few  weeks,  the  desire  dies  out.  The 
impulse  to  write,  born  of  the  inspiration  of  the  books 
which  one  reads,  is  very  fiery  and  very  fine  at  the  first, 
but  it  is  hard  to  stretch  it  over  a  period  of  six  months 
or  a  year,  through  weariness,  and  headache,  and  con- 
finement, and  doubt  as  to  the  result,  and  disgust  with 
the  failure  to  satisfy  one's  own  taste  and  judgment. 
The  man  or  the  woman  who  writes  on  after  the  original 
inspiration  has  lost  its  impulse — labors  on  in  the  drud- 
gery of  detail,  in  polishing,  trimming,  rewriting — finds 


196         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

it  at  last  an  irksome  task,  and  is  only  sustained  in  it 
by  a  self-supported  determination.  A  fresh  interest  will 
sustain  labor ;  but,  when  a  book  has  been  fully  con- 
structed in  the  mind  and  realized  in  the  imagination, 
and  nothing  remains  but  the  labor  of  writing  a  limited 
amount  from  day  to  day  for  many  months,  all  of  which 
writing  must  be  done  before  one  can  get  any  sympathy 
from  others,  it  takes  a  will  as  patient  and  unyielding  as 
that  which  a  besieging  army  needs  before  a  fortress  that 
is  to  be  approached  by  inches.  Does  she  possess  this 
patience,  this  persistence,  this  adamantine  will  which 
will  stand,  and  command,  and  do,  after  desire  and  in- 
spiration are  gone,  and  even  the  motive  of  doing  good 
has  been  discouraged  ? 

I  have  thus  attempted  to  show  her  how  easily  she  may 
be  misled  as  to  her  abilities  by  her  desires,  and  what 
the  conditions  of  successful  writing  must  be,  admitting 
that  her  abilities  are  all  that  she  supposes  them  to  be. 
I  have  exaggerated  nothing,  but  tried  to  give  her  a  faith- 
ful survey  of  the  ground,  so  that  if  she  still  feels  impelled 
to  undertake  writing,  she  may  approach  her  task  with  a 
good  understanding  of  its  difficulties.  If  I  were  intent 
on  discouraging  her — if  that  were  my  motive  at  all — I 
might  go  farther,  and  speak  of  what  are  supposed  to  be 
"  satisfactions  "  of  authorship.  I  might  tell  her  that  the 
article  which  so  inspired  her  probably  left  the  author  a 
disgusted  man.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  the  books 
which  have  pleased  and  strengthened  her  most  are,  at 


Miss  Felicia  Hemans  Jones.  197 

this  very  moment,  regarded  by  the  writer  as  unworthy 
of  him,  and  altogether  unworthy  of  the  purpose  to  which 
they  were  addressed.  I  might  tell  her  of  the  incompe- 
tent criticism,  the  mean  personal  attacks,  the  careless 
condemnations,  and,  worst  of  all,  the  undiscriminating 
praises  which  are  every  successful  author's  lot.  But,  as 
she  does  not*  propose  to  write  to  please  herself,  and  is 
actuated  by  the  desire  to  do  good,  the  effort  would  be 
irrelevant.  It  would  be  very  painful  to  me  to  feel  that  I 
had  dissuaded  any  man  or  woman  from  a  legitimate 
career,  or  to  know  that  I  had  turned  aside  any  mind 
from  a  walk  of  usefulness  ;  but  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
an  intelligent  survey  of  the  difficulties  of  authorship, 
and  a  comprehension  of  the  signs  of  power  to  succeed 
usually  relied  upon,  will  settle  this  question  forever  in 
their  minds.  It  is  one  of  the  curses  of  life  to  feel  that 
we  are  out  of  place,  and  to  feel  that  we  might  be  doing 
something  better  than  that  which  engages  our  powers. 
The  world  is  full  of  the  unsatisfied,  multitudes  of  whom, 
I  believe,  turn  their  eyes  to  the  field  of  authorship  with 
desire,  and  with  more  or  less  of  conviction  that  there  are 
success  and  satisfaction  in  it  for  them.  These  people 
will  never  write,  but  they  will  always  be  thinking  about 
it ;  and  they  need  something  to  turn  them  back  upon 
their  legitimate  field  for  the  satisfaction  which  they  seek. 
I  hope  this  paper  will  have  an  influence  on  the  mind  of 
Miss  Jones  as  well  as  on  theirs.  Of  this  I  feel  measur- 
ably certain  :  if  she  was  born  for  an  authoress,  she  will 


1 98         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

find  that  within  her  which  will  set  all  my  wisdom  aside, 
and  push  on.  There  is  a  consciousness  of  power  and  a 
faith  in  success  which  I  cannot  define,  but  before  which 
I  bow  ;  and  if  she  has  these — heaven-imparted — I  bid 
her  God  speed.  But  I  beg  her  not  to  mistake  a  simple 
desire  to  write,  which  she  shares  in  common  with  thou- 
sands, for  the  divine  impulse  to  which  I  allude. 


JEHU  JONES. 

CONCERNING  THE  CHARACTER  AND  TENDENCIES 
OF  THE  FAST  LIFE   WHICH  HE  IS  LIVING. 

I  HAVE  been  watching  Jehu  Jones  with  painful  solici- 
tude for  the  last  five  years.  He  was  originally 
what  people  call  a  wild  boy,  with  no  particular  vices, 
but  with  strong  passions  and  a  great  overflow  of  animal 
spirits.  He  came  into  manhood  with  a  cigar  in  his 
mouth  and  a  reputation  for  "  spreeing,"  in  both  of 
which  he  apparently  took  a  proud  delight.  He  abused 
every  horse  that  he  had  the  opportunity  of  driving,  and 
particularly  affected  a  dashing  turnout  He  liked  the 
society  of  sporting  men,  and  took  naturally  to  their 
ways  and  to  their  morals.  He  cut  loose  from  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Christian  friends  around  him,  and  broke  the 
Sabbath,  and  frequented  the  haunts  of  vice,  and  en- 
gaged in  scenes  of  dissipation,  and  laughed  at  those  who 
yielded  themselves  to  the  control  of  conscience.  He  is 
a  good-natured  person  enough,  but  he  is  wicked,  and 
while  he  maintains  a  place  in  respectable  society,  he  is 
regarded  with  fear  by  the  good  and  with  suspicion  by 


200         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

all.  It  is  understood  among  the  women  that  he  is  not 
a  pure  man,  and  it  is  known,  by  some  of  them,  that  he 
has  abused  the  confidence  of  more  than  one.  All  of  his 
friends  have  heard  sad  reports  of  his  sins  when  beyond 
their  sight,  and  all  regard  him  as  a  ruined  man. 

I  wish  to  call  his  attention  particularly  to  this  point, 
viz.,  that  the  community  regard  him  as  a  ruined  man  al- 
ready. He  does  not  imagine  this  to  be  the  case,  at  all. 
He  has  no  idea  that  he  is  ruined.  He  is  not  aware  that 
he  has  the  reputation  of  being  ruined.  Now  I  hope  he 
will  permit  me  to  set  him  before  himself. 

He  is  not  under  the  control  of  principle  in  the  slightest 
degree.  He  has  some  notions  of  honor,  but  they  are 
entirely  conventional.  They  would  not  keep  him  from 
breaking  his  pledge  to  a  woman  or  breaking  her  heart, 
and  I  say,  therefore,  that  he  has  no  principle — not  even 
the  principle  of  personal  honor  which  he  doubtless  sup- 
poses he  has.  There  is,  thus,  nothing  to  restrain  him 
from  the  most  unscrupulous  means  for  securing  his 
personal  ends,  and  nothing  to  stand  between  him  and 
personal  gratification  of  his  sensual  desires,  except  the 
law.  Now  will  he  not  decide  for  himself  how  far  a  man 
in  this  position  is  from  ruin  ?  Does  he  imagine  that  he 
is,  to  any  extent,  under  the  control  of  principle  ?  Does 
principle  restrain  him  from  indulgence  in  strong  drink  ? 
Does  principle  withhold  him  from  association  with  lewd 
women  ?  Does  principle  forbid  him  the  use  of  the  pro- 
fane oath  or  the  obscene  jest  ?     He  knows  it  does  none 


Jehu  Jones.  20i 

of  these  things.  Then  why  does  he  fancy  that  he  is  con- 
trolled by  principle  ?  Why  does  he  fancy  that  there  is 
anything  within  him  to  keep  him  from  moral  ruin  ?  If 
he  is  not  ruined  to-day,  he  is  pretty  certain  to  be  ruined 
very  soon,  because  salvation  involves  reformation,  at 
which  he  scoffs. 

Let  me  ask  him  to  look  around  him  and  see  what 
those  have  come  to  who  began  where  he  began.  There 
goes  his  neighbor  with  a  blotched  and  burning  face  and 
a  stuffed  skin,  whose  drink  will  just  as  certainly  kill  him 
as  if  it  were  arsenic.  He  stood  once  where  Jehu  Jones 
stands  to-day.  He  did  not  dream,  ten  years  ago,  that 
he  was  ruined ;  but  he  has  taken  no  new  step  to  bring 
him  where  he  now  stands.  He  only  continued  to  do 
what  he  was  already  doing.  There  was  no  principle  to 
stand  between  him  and  destruction.  He  drank  with  his 
friends  occasionally,  then  he  drank  with  them  habitu- 
ally, then  he  drank  alone  to  gratify  a  thirst  which  drink 
had  created,  and  which  will  never  die  while  his  vitiated 
body  lives.  Let  him  look  at  that  other  neighbor  of  his 
with  dark  red  skin  and  troubled  eye,  who  knows  where 
he  is  going.  It  is  not  ten  years  since  he  was  not  even 
suspected  of  drinking,  but  it  came  out  that  he  had 
learned  in  secret  to  love  hot  liquors,  and  that  he  had  set 
his  heart  against  reform.  That  man  is  in  the  straight 
road  to  hell,  and  he  knows  it,  and  Jehu  Jones  is  on  the 
same  road,  stops  at  the  wayside  rcoorts  and  drinks  with 
him.  Delirium  tremens  waitv  for  that  man  and  is  sure 
9* 


202         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

of  him.  Let  Mr.  Jones  look  at  that  little  circle  of  neigh- 
bors younger  than  those  to  whom  I  have  called  his 
attention.  Does  he  see  how  they  are  changing  ?  Does 
be  not  see  that  they  are  growing  preternaturally  heavy, 
and  that  they  are  becoming  more  habitual  in  their  visits 
to  the  dram-shop  and  in  the  indulgence  of  drink  at 
home  ?  Has  he  any  doubt  as  to  where  they  will  be  in 
the  course  of  ten  years  more  ? 

Having  looked  at  these,  suppose  he  goes  with  me  to 
visit  certain  others  who  have  arrived  at  the  close  of  their 
journey.  There  sits  one  in  his  doorway— a  miserable 
wreck,  filled  with  gouty  pains,  unable  even  to  taste  of 
the  liquor  which  has  destroyed  him,  and  loathing  the 
food  which  he  has  no  power  to  digest.  There  writhes 
another  in  torment — in  a  delirium  whose  horrors  are  be- 
yond conception,  as  they  are  beyond  description.  There 
sits  another  in  the  sun,  from  whom  the  flesh  has  all  fallen 
away — who  is  left  feeble  and  flaccid  and  foolish — a 
poor,  broken-down,  diseased  wretch,  beyond  the  reach 
of  help.  There  sinks  another  in  paralysis,  a  helpless 
mass  of  bloated  flesh. 

What  does  Mr.  Jones  think  of  these  men  ?  Does  it 
seem  as  if  that  handsome  face  and  those  shapely  limbs 
of  his  could  ever  arrive  at  such  degradation  ?  He  has 
anly  to  keep  along  the  track  which  he  now  follows,  with 
no  fears  and  no  compunction  of  conscience  to  pass 
through  the  various  stages  of  ruin  which  these  men  have 
presented  to  him.     There  is  but  one  end  to  a  life  oi 


Jehu  Jones.  203 

drink,  and  that  is  hell.  It  matters  little  whether  the 
popular  doctrine  of  future  torment  be  admitted  or  not 
to  make  my  statement  true.  A  body  long  abused  by 
drink  becomes  all  that  we  can  conceive  of  as  hell.  It  13 
the  dwelling-place  of  torment — the  home  of  horror.  Mr. 
Jones  sees  these  men  on  their  way  to  ruin.  He  knows 
just  where  they  are  going,  and  I  see  he  is  going  on  the 
same  road,  to  the  same  end.  Let  him  tell  me  whether 
he  does  not  love  drink  better  to-day  than  he  did  five 
years  ago.  Let  him  tell  me  whether  it  does  not  take 
more  drink  to  satisfy  him  than  it  did  five  years  ago.  Let 
him  tell  me  whether  he  does  not  drink  oftener  than 
he  did  even  two  years  ago.  Let  him  tell  me  whether  he 
does  not  think  of  it  oftener  when  away  from  it  than  he 
did  one  year  ago.  Let  him  tell  me  whether  his  con- 
science reproves  him  at  all,  and  whether,  under  the  ac- 
cumulating evidences  of  his  essential  ruin,  he  has  felt  the 
smallest  alarm  as  to  what  may  be  the  result  of  his  indul- 
gence. I  see  what  he  does  not  see — that  he  has  acquired 
an  appetite  for  liquor.  He  used  to  drink  it  only  when 
on  a  frolic  ;  now  he  drinks  it  every  day.  Now  let  me  tell 
him  what  observation  and  experience  teach — that  he  will 
love  it  more  and  more  as  the  years  pass  away,  and  will 
be  less  and  less  inclined  to  relinquish  its  use.  Why 
should  I  not  speak  of  him,  then,  as  a  ruined  man? 
There  is  another  element  that  enters  into  his  ruin.  He 
has  for  the  last  five  years,  consorted  with  ruined  women. 
When  he  was  younger,  evil  companions  and  evil  desires 


204         Concerning  the  Jo7tes  Family. 

and  curiosity  led  him  into  their  society.  There  were 
certain  things  in  that  society  that  disgusted  him  then. 
To-day  he  is  at  home  in  it.  To-day,  he  is  a  beast.  He 
delights  in  the  company  of  women  who  shame  the  names 
of  mother,  sister,  and  wife — of  prostitutes  who  sell  for  gold 
that  which,  in  God's  pure  economy,  is  sacred  to  love — 
of  women  whose  touch  is  pollution  and  whose  hold  upon 
him  is  damnation.  Oh,  Heaven !  When  I  think  of  the 
young  life  around  me,  that  it  is  permitting  its  feet  to  be 
directed  into  these  terrible  paths  of  sin — when  1  con- 
sider how  seductive  these  paths  are  to  youthful  appetite 
and  passion — when  I  remember  how  opportunity  invites 
from  ten  thousand  hiding-places — when  I  realize  that 
there  is  no  vice  which  so  deadens  or  destroys  the  moral 
sense  as  that  of  licentiousness,  I  am  sick  and  almost  in 
despair.  Jehu  Jones  is  old  in  this  vice,  but  there  are 
those  around  me  who  are  young  in  it,  as  he  was  once — 
boys,  whose  feet  hang  upon  the  verge  of  a  precipice 
more  fearful  than  death — young  men — with  Christian 
mothers  and  pure  sisters — whose  characters  are  as  base 
as  their  bodies  are  diseased.  Does  he  shrink  from  this 
vice,  and  from  the  society  which  it  involves?  Is  he  not 
in  love  with  it — so  much  in  love  with  it  that  he  does  not 
enjoy  the  society  of  pure  women  ?  Is  he  not  so  much  in 
love  with  it  that  the  society  of  pure  women  only  brings 
to  him  shameful  suggestions  ?  And  yet,  he  thinks  he  is 
not  ruined  !  Ruined  ?  He  is  rotten.  If  mind  were  sub- 
ject to  the  laws  of  matter,  and  moral  corruption  were 


JeJiu  Jones.  205 

accompanied  by  the  phenomena  which  characterize  phy- 
sical decay,  he  would  stink  like  carrion. 

I  have  no  words  with  which  to  express  my  sense  of 
the  ruin  which  this  single  vice  has  wrought  in  him.  Men 
who  drink  are  sometimes  reformed,  and  if  they  have  not 
proceeded  too  far  in  their  vice,  they  come  back  to  a  self- 
respectful  manhood.  The  taint  left  upon  their  morals 
is  not  so  deep  that  it  cannot  be  eradicated,  but  a  man 
who  has  been  debauched  by  licentiousness,  is  incurable. 
I  do  not  mean  that  he  cannot  reform,  but  that  he  must 
always  be  weak,  and  must  always  carry  with  him  a  sense 
of  degradation  and  shame.  Does  Mr.  Jones  persist  in 
believing  that  he  is  not  ruined  ?  There  is,  of  course, 
one  aspect  of  his  case  in  which  he  is  not. 

It  is  possible  for  him  to  reform,  but  he  has  no  idea  of 
reforming.  He  bases  no  hopes  or  calculations  on  reforma- 
tion. That  is  why  I  declare  him  to  be  ruined.  He  volun- 
tarily blocks  up  the  only  way  of  escape  from  ruin.  If 
a  man,  loving  his  welfare,  speaks  to  him  of  reformation, 
he  is  angry  with  him.  If  he  ventures  to  reprove  him 
for  his  vices,  he  bids  him  mind  his  own  business.  He 
braces  himself  against  every  influence  which  is  intended 
to  reform  him.  He  joins  hands  with  those  who  are  nearer 
the  grand  catastrophe  of  their  lives  than  himself.  He 
scoffs  at  temperance  and  purity  in  life.  He  laughs  at 
religion.  He  glories  in  his  independence  of  all  weak  and 
womanish  notions  of  morals  and  life,  yet  God  knows  that 
in  these  weak  and  womanish  notions  of  morals  and  of  life 


2o6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

abide  his  only  hope  of  deliverance  from  a  career  whose 
end  is  certain  disaster  and  misery.  Let  him  look  at  the 
poor  women  who  share  his  debaucheries.  Are  they 
ruined,  or  are  they  not  ?  How  great  a  chance  does  any 
one  of  them  stand  of  reformation  or  of  a  happy  life  ? 
Can  he  not  see  that  their  lives  are  morally  certain  to  end 
in  wreck  ?  Does  he  not  know  that  their  steps  tend  di- 
rectly into  the  blackness  of  darkness— into  a  horrible 
tempest  of  remorse,  whose  bowlings,  even  now,  ring  in 
their  ears  in  the  intervals  of  artificial  madness  ?  What 
is  he  better  than  they  ?  He  is  no  better  than  they.  They 
are  his  equals  and  his  companions,  travelling  the  same 
path — bound  to  the  same  perdition. 

Would  to  heaven  I  could  paint  to  his  imagination  the 
horrors  of  a  lost  life,  that  he  and  all  who  may  gaze  upon 
the  picture  might  shrink  from  the  gulf,  and  make  haste 
to  reach  safer  and  higher  ground  !  I  would  call  up  to 
his  vision  his  former  self — the  unpolluted  boy  and  young 
man — full  of  life,  and  joy,  and  generous  impulses,  with 
inclinations  drawing  him  toward  sin,  and  pure  influences 
from  parents  and  home  and  heaven  dissuading  him 
from  it.  I  would  show  him  how,  yielding  to  these  bet- 
ter influences,  he  might  now  be  an  honored  member  of 
society,  with  a  virtuous  wife  at  his  side,  and  pleasant 
children  at  his  knee — with  a  smiling  heaven  above  him, 
a  safe  future  before  him — with  conscious  freedom  from 
the  slavery  of  thirst  and  desire — with  self-respect,  and 
that  strength  which  comes  from  the  possession  of  the 


yekn  Jones.  207 

respect  of  others.  I  would  show  him  all  his  possibilities 
of  excellence  in  manhood,  of  virtuous  happiness,  of  self- 
denying  effort  for  the  good  of  society,  of  domestic  de- 
light, of  faith  and  confidence  in  a  great  and  glorious 
future.  And  having  shown  him  all  these,  I  would  show 
him  all  those — lost !  I  would  show  him  a  life  that  might 
have  been  that  of  an  angel  thrown  away — its  physical 
health  and  resources  wasted  in  debaucheries — its  mind 
feasting  only  on  impure  imaginations  and  delighting  only 
in  impure  society — its  heart  reeking  with  corruption — 
its  pure  ambition  dead — its  present  controlled  by  animal 
appetites,  rendered  foul  by  indulgence  and  fierce  by 
their  feverish  food,  and  its  future  overclouded  by  fear. 
I  would  show  him  a  man — the  noblest  being  God  has 
placed  on  the  earth — thrown  away — transformed  into  a 
beast — a  gross,  unreasoning  thing,  that  glories  in  its  ap- 
petites, and  boasts  of  their  indulgence — a  being  lost  to 
decency,  to  self-respect,  to  happiness,  to  good  society, 
to  God — lost  even  to  the  poor  inheritance  of  conscious 
shame. 

A  lost  life  !  What  is  it  ?  Theologians  stickle  about 
words  in  describing  the  future  of  the  vicious,  but  if  any 
theologian  can  tell  me  how  a  man  can  live  the  life  of  the 
beast,  subjecting  his  soul,  with  all  its  pure  aspirations 
and  inspirations,  to  the  service  of  lust,  and  throw  away 
his  life  in  this  miserable  perversion,  and  be  able  to  look 
back  upon  it  from  the  other  side  of  the  dark  river  with 
anything  but  remorse,  he  will  explain  to  me  the  strangest 


2o8         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

anomaly  of  the  moral  universe.  The  thing  is  impossi- 
ble. A  lost  life  is  something  that  belongs  to  a  lost  soul. 
What  is  in  store  for  such  a  soul,  of  possible  reform  in 
the  long  ages  which  lie  before  it,  I  cannot  tell.  I  only 
know  that  it  has  lost  its  best  chance,  and,  so  far  as  I 
know,  its  only  chance,  for  everlasting  happiness.  I  only 
know  that  such  a  soul  must  go  before  its  Maker  a  pol- 
luted thing,  full  of  regret  for  its  life  of  folly  and  of  sin, 
consciously  out  of  sympathy  with  all  pure  and  heavenly 
society,  shorn  by  the  death  of  its  body  of  every  source 
of  pleasure.  I  know  that  Jehu  Jones  is  losing  his  life — 
that  he  is  marching  straight  into  the  jaws  of  physical 
and  spiritual  destruction.  He  refuses  to  reform.  He 
scoffs  at  reform.  What  remains  ?  A  life— lost  1  My 
God  !     What  a  surrender  of  thy  gift  is  this  I 

It  would  be  a  gratification  to  me,  sweeter  than  any 
material  success,  to  turn  his  feet  into  the  path  of  virtue  ; 
but  I  have  not  much  faith  in  so  happy  a  result  of  this 
expostulation.  For  many  years  I  have  watched  the  ca- 
reer of  such  men  as  he.  Death  has  reaped  a  dozen 
crops  of  them  within  my  short  memory.  The  young 
men  who  occupied  ten  years  ago  the  position  which  he 
occupies  to-day,  are  nearly  all  of  them  dead.  One  re- 
mains, here  and  there,  a  played-out  man,  whom  circum- 
stances have  restrained  from  going  on  to  absolute  suicide. 
The  rest  have  hidden  their  faces  in  the  grave,  and  no 
one  speaks  of  them  except  as  of  men  who  lost  their  lives. 
Let  him  look  back  and  see  how  many  of  those  with 


Jehu  Jones.  209 

whom  he  has  joined  in  carousal  and  debauchery  are  now 
dead.  They  are  scattered  all  along  the  track  of  his  dis- 
sipated life.  How  many  of  his  companions  have  re- 
formed ?  Can  he  name  one  ?  I  hope  he  can  name 
many,  but  if  he  can,  he  is  more  fortunate  than  I  am. 
Now,  I  have  but  little  hope  of  saving  him,  but  it  would 
give  me  more  joy  than  it  would  be  possible  for  me  to 
express  to  be  able  so  to  present  to  him  his  situation  as 
to  frighten  him  back  from  the  precipice  which  he  is 
rapidly  approaching.  If  any  entreaty  of  mine  could 
save  him,  I  would  willingly  get  on  my  knees  before  him, 
and  beg  him  to  save  himself  by  immediate  reform.  I 
would  do  anything  to  arrest  his  progress  to  destruction, 
and  I  would  do  anything  to  turn  the  feet  of  those  who 
are  younger  than  he  from  the  life  which  he  is  leading. 

I  have  written  this  paper  mainly  to  arrest  the  atten- 
tion and  secure  the  salvation  of  those  who  are  tempted 
as  he  was,  when  younger,  to  forsake  the  path  of  temper- 
ance and  purity.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  when  he 
commences  this  paper,  and  notices  its  drift,  he  will  lay 
it  down  without  reading  it.  It  is  more  than  likely  that 
many  young  men  who  are  not  fallen,  but  who  are  liable 
to  fall,  will  read  the  whole  of  it.  It  is  mainly  for  the  use 
and  the  warning  of  these  men,  that  I  have  drawn  his 
picture,  and  I  place  it  before  them  with  hopefulness  of 
a  good  result  I  would  show  them  by  his  life  whither 
license  leads.  I  would  show  them  by  his  loss  what  illicit 
indulgence  costs.     I  would  warn  them  by  the  disasters 


2IQ         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

and  death  of  their  friends  to  abstain  from  the  intoxicat- 
ing cup,  and  to  shun  the  house  of  her  whose  steps  take 
hold  on  hell.  Licentiousness,  were  it  not  the  vice  of  all 
ages,  might  be  called  the  special  vice  of  this  age.  Cer- 
tain it  is  that  never  in  the  history  of  Puritan  America 
did  this  vice  reap  to  its  infectious  bosom  such  harvests 
of  the  young  as  it  now  is  reaping.  Certain  it  is  that  this 
vice  never  spread  its  temptations  before  the  public  with 
such  impunity  as  now.  The  community  seems  to  be 
benumbed,  discouraged  by  its  boldness,  strength,  and 
prevalence.  It  literally  advertises  itself  in  the  public 
streets,  and  no  man  lifts  indignantly  his  voice  against  it. 
Rum  and  riot  thrive.  The  dram-shop  and  the  brothel 
are  everywhere,  ana  into  either  of  these  no  man  can  go 
without  endangering  both  his  body  and  his  soul.  Mr. 
Jehu  Jones  will  some  time  know  how  precious  a  posses- 
sion is  in  the  hands  of  these  young  men — he  will  reach 
the  time  when  he  would  give  the  world,  were  it  his,  to 
win  back  the  innocence  and  health  and  peace,  which  he 
will  have  forever  lost-^the  time  when  he  would  esteem  it 
a  privilege  to  adjure  them  to  keep  their  bodies  and  their 
souls  from  the  grasp  of  tnose  appetites  which  will  have 
borne  him  into  the  realm  ot  de^air. 


THOMAS  ARNOLD  JONES, 

SCHOOLMASTER. 

CONCERNING  THE  REQUIREMENTS  AND  THE  TEN- 
DENCIES  OF  HIS  PROFESSION. 

WHEN  I  review  the  life  and  character  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Arnold  —  a  man  in  whose  honor  the 
subject  of  this  sketch  was  named,  it  is  easy  for  me 
to  understand  why  he  was  so  great  a  schoolmaster. 
He  was  a  profound  scholar,  surpassing  in  attainments 
most  of  the  professional  men  of  his  time.  He  was  a 
rare  historian,  with  a  minute  knowledge  and  a  philo- 
sophical appreciation  of  modern  times,  and  that  mas- 
ter of  antiquity  which  enabled  him  to  write  a  History 
of  Rome  which  competent  critics  have  characterized 
as  "  the  best  history  in  the  language."  He  was  a  theo- 
logian of  the  highest  class,  paying  but  little  respect  to 
systems  constructed  by  men,  but  drawing  directly  from 
the  fountain  of  all  theological  knowledge — the  Bible. 
Above  all,  he  was  a  man — a  large-hearted,  catholic  man 
— a  gentle,  loving  man — full  of  enthusiasm — devoted  to 


212  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

reform,  in  constant  communication  with  the  best  minds 
of  his  age  through  a  private  correspondence  which  aston- 
ishes all  who  now  look  upon  its  record — a  laborious,  con- 
scientious, Christian  man.  Knowing  all  this  of  the  man, 
it  is  not  surprising  to  me  that  he  was  the  greatest  school- 
master of  his  generation,  or  that  we  cannot  find  his  peef 
among  the  schoolmasters  of  to-day. 

I  heard  some  years  ago  that  the  member  of  the  Jones 
family  who  was  named  in  honor  of  Dr.  Arnold,  purposed 
to  make  teaching  the  business  of  his  life.  I  know  com- 
paratively little  about  him,  personally,  but  I  know  what, 
in  the  definitions  of  the  day,  fitting  one's  self  for  teach- 
ing means.  It  is  commonly  understood  that  when  a 
man  is  "  fitted  for  teaching"  he  is  fitted  to  conduct  reci- 
tations in  the  various  branches  of  learning  pursued  in 
the  ordinary  schools,  having  thoroughly  gone  through 
the  usual  text-books  himself.  If  a  man  knows  grammar, 
he  is  "  fitted  to  teach"  grammar.  If  a  man  has  learned 
arithmetic,  and  natural  philosophy,  and  astronomy,  and 
moral  science,  as  he  finds  them  in  the  accredited  text- 
books, he  is  "fitted"  to  teach  all  those  branches  of 
learning.  We  hear  constantly  of  young  men  and  women 
who  are  "fitting  themselves  for  teaching,"  and  we  know 
exactly  what  the  process  is.  We  hear  often  of  those 
who  travel  in  foreign  parts  as  a  preparation  for  labor  in 
the  pulpit,  and  in  other  professions,  but  I  do  not  re- 
meniber  an  instance  of  travel,  undertaken  by  man  or 
woman,  as  a  preparation  for  teaching.     "Fitness"  for 


Thomas  Arnold  jfones.  213 

teaching  seems  to  consist  wholly  in  the  ability  to  con- 
duct recitations  ;  and  when  this  ability  is  compassed,  so 
that  a  candidate  for  the  teacher's  office  is  able  to  pass 
an  examination  before  a  board  more  or  less  competent 
for  the  service,  he  is  "  fitted"  for  teaching. 

It  is  true  that  teachers  fitted  in  this  way  for  their 
work  are  competent  to  impart  what,  in  the  common  lan- 
guage of  the  time,  is  called  "  an  education."  With  all 
that  is  written  intelligibly  on  this  subject  of  education  at 
the  present  time — and  in  my  judgment,  the  subject  is 
better  understood  now  than  it  has  ever  been  before — it 
is  astonishing  how  almost  universally  it  is  the  opinion 
that  education  consists  in  the  cramming  into  a  child's 
mind  the  contents  of  a  pile  of  text-books.  I  do  not 
think  that  I  exaggerate  at  all  when  I  say  that  three- 
quarters  of  the  teachers  of  American  youth  practically 
consider  fitness  for  teaching  to  consist  in  the  ability  to 
conduct  recitations  from  the  usual  text-books,  and  that 
three-quarters  of  the  people  who  have  children  to  be 
educated  regard  education  as  consisting  entirely  in  ac- 
quiring the  ability  to  answer  such  questions  as  these 
teachers  may  propose  from  the  text-books  in  their 
hands.  The  larger  view  of  teaching  and  of  education  is 
not  the  prevalent  view.  Teaching  is  conducted  often  by 
men  who  are  not  competent  to  do  anything  else.  They 
take  up  teaching  as  a  preparation  for  other  work.  A 
man  teaches  as  a  preparation  for  preaching — as  a  step- 
ping-stone for  something  better — as  a  means  of  earning 


214         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

money  to  enable  him  to  learn  some  other  work.  "  Fit- 
ness for  teaching  "  seems  to  come  a  long  time  before  fit- 
ness for  anything  else  comes,  and  is  certainly  not  re- 
garded as  indicating  a  very  high  degree  of  intellectual 
advancement. 

I  have  no  means  of  knowing  how  far  I  have  defined 
Mr.  Jones'  notions,  or  his  attainments,  in  these  state- 
ments, but  I  have  prepared  him,  certainly,  for  the 
proposition  that  real  fitness  for  teaching  only  comes 
with  the  most  varied  and  generous  culture,  with  the  best 
talents  enthusiastically  engaged,  and  the  noblest  Chris- 
tian character.  Dr.  Arnold  was  a  great  schoolmaster 
simply  because  he  was  a  great  man.  His  "  fitness"  for 
hearing  recitations  was  the  smallest  part  of  his  fitness 
for  teaching.  Indeed,  it  was  nothing  but  what  he  shared 
in  common  with  the  most  indifferent  of  his  assistants  at 
Rugby.  His  fitness  for  teaching  consisted  in  his  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature  and  of  the  world,  his  pure  and 
lofty  aims,  his  self-denying  devotion  to  the  work  which 
employed  his  time  and  powers,  his  lofty  example,  his 
strong,  generous,  magnetic  manhood.  That  which  fitted 
him  peculiarly  for  teaching  was  precisely  that  which 
would  have  fitted  him  peculiarly  for  any  other  high  of- 
fice in  the  service  of  men.  His  knowledge  of  the  ordi- 
nary text-books  may  not  have  been  greater  than  that 
which  Mr.  Jones  possesses.  His  excellence  as  a  teacher 
did  not  reside  in  his  eminence  as  a  scholar  and  a  man 
of  science,  though  that  eminence  is  undisputed  ;  but  in 


Thomas  Arnold  yones.  215 

that  power  to  lead  and  inspire — to  reinforce  and  fructify 
— the  young  minds  that  were  placed  in  his  care.  He 
filled  those  minds  with  noble  thoughts.  He  trained 
them  to  labor  with  right  motives  for  grand  ends.  He 
baptized  them  with  his  own  sweet  and  strong  spirit.  He 
glorified  the  dull  routine  of  toil  by  keeping  before  the 
toilers  the  end  of  their  toil — a  noble  character — that 
power  of  manhood  of  which  so  high  an  example  was 
found  in  himself. 

Now  let  Mr.  Jones  ask  himself  how  well  fitted  for 
teaching  he  is,  tried  by  the  standard  which  I  place  be- 
fore him  in  the  character  of  Dr.  Arnold.  I  do  not  ask 
whether  he  is  as  great  and  good  a  man  as  Dr.  Arnold. 
I  do  not  require  that  he  should  be  as  great  and  good  as 
he  ;  but  I  ask  him  whether  he  now  regards,  or  whether 
he  has  ever  regarded — save  in  the  most  general  sense — 
this  matter  of  fitness  for  teaching  as  being  anything 
more  than  fitness  to  govern  a  school,  and  conduct  reci- 
tations intelligently  ?  Having  acquired  this  sort  of  fit- 
ness sufficiently  to  enable  him  to  get  a  position,  is  he 
pushing  in  the  pursuit  of  that  higher  fitness  which  will 
give  him  the  power  of  an  inspirer  of  the  youth  who  are 
placed  in  his  charge.  That  is  the  question  most  inter- 
esting not  only  to  his  pupils,  but  to  him.  Is  he  making 
progress  as  a  man,  by  constant  culture  ?  Is  he  bringing 
his  mind  into  communication  with  other  minds,  that  he 
may  gain  vitality  and  force  by  contact  and  collision  ?  Is 
he  reading — studying — striving  to  lift  himself  out  of  the 


2i6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

dead  literalism  of  his  recitation-rooms,  so  that  he  can 
win  higher  ground,  whither  he  may  call  the  young  feet 
that  grow  weary  with  plodding  ?  Outgrowing  all  bond- 
age to  forms  and  technicalities  and  mere  words  and 
names,  has  he  mastered  ideas,  so  that  he  can  give  vitality 
to  his  teachings  ?  Do  these  text-books,  to  the  mastery 
of  which  he  devoted  some  years,  and  in  the  exposition  of 
which  he  now  spends  much  of  his  time,  still  enthrall  him 
with  the  thought  that  they  hold  the  secret  of  an  edu- 
cation within  their  covers ;  or,  standing  above  them, 
does  he  look  down  upon  them  as  rudimentary,  and  as 
things  which,  in  the  consummation  of  an  education,  are 
left  far  behind  ? 

In  the  course  of  his  education,  he  was,  as  I  happen  to 
remember,  placed  under  the  tutelage  of  several  different 
masters.  Will  he  now  look  back  and  recall  them  all, 
and  tell  me  which  of  them  he  remembers  with  the  most 
grateful  pleasure  ?  Will  he  tell  me  which  of  them  all 
did  him  the  most  good — which  of  them  left  the  deepest 
mark  upon  his  character,  and  accomplished  most  in 
building  up  and  furnishing  his  mind  ?  Was  it  the  most 
learned  man  of  them  all,  or  was  it  the  wisest  man  ? 
Was  it  he  who  was  most  at  home  in  the  text-books,  or 
he  whose  mind  was  fullest  of  ideas  ?  I  know  that  he  can 
give  but  one  answer  to  my  question.  The  answer  will 
be  that  he  who  was  most  of  a  man  was  the  best  teacher, 
and  the  name  of  that  one  will  always  awaken  enthusiasm. 
He  has  been  peculiarly  unfortunate  if  he  has  not,  at 


Thomas  Arnold  yones.  217 

some  time  in  his  life  been  under  a  teacher  who  had  the 
power  to  inspire  him  to  such  an  extent  that  all  study  be- 
came a  pleasure  to  him,  and  the  school-room,  with  its 
tasks  and  competitions  and  emulations,  the  happiest  spot 
which  the  earth  held.  And  now,  when  he  looks  back 
to  this  man,  when  he  hears  his  name  mentioned,  his 
mind  kindles  with  a  new  fire,  as  if  he  had  touched  one 
of  the  permanent  sources  of  his  moral  and  intellectual 
life.  His  best  teacher  was  the  man  who  aroused  him — 
who  gave  him  high  aims  and  lofty  aspirations — who 
made  him  think,  and  taught  him  to  organize  into  living 
and  useful  forms  the  knowledge  which  he  helped  him  to 
win.  In  short,  he  was  not  the  man  who  crammed  him, 
but  the  man  who  educated  him — who  educated  those 
powers  in  which  reside  his  real  manhood. 

I  wish  to  impress  upon  Mr.  Jones  the  great  truth  that 
his  excellence  and  success  as  a  teacher  will  depend  en- 
tirely upon  the  style  and  strength  of  his  manhood.  The 
ability  to  maintain  order  in  a  school,  and  to  conduct 
recitations,  with  measurable  intelligence,  is  not  extraor- 
dinary. It  is  possessed  by  a  large  number  of  quite  ordi- 
nary people,  but  that  higher  power  to  which  I  have  en- 
deavored to  direct  his  attention  is  extraordinary.  The 
teachers  are  not  many  who  possess  it,  or  who  intelli- 
gently aim  to  win  it  It  is  not  a  garment  to  be  put  on 
and  taken  off  like  a  coat,  but  it  is  the  result  of  the  lov- 
ing contact  of  a  generous  nature  with  those  great  and 
beautiful  realities  of  which  the  text-books  only  present 
10 


2i8         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

us  the  dry  definitions.  The  greatest  naturahst  of  this 
country — perhaps  the  greatest  of  any  country — was  a 
teacher  whose  equal  it  would  be  hard  to  find  among  a 
nation  of  teachers ;  and  this  was  true,  not  because  he 
knew  so  much,  but  because  he  was  so  much.  No  mind 
could  come  within  the  reach  of  his  voice  and  influence 
without  being  touched  by  his  sublime  enthusiasm.  No 
pupil  ever  spoke  of,  or  now  recalls  him,  save  with  bright- 
ened or  moistened  eyes.  I  have  heard  women  pro- 
nounce his  name  in  many  places,  scattered  between 
Maine  and  the  Mississippi,  and  always  in  such  terms  of 
gratitude  and  praise  that  it  has  seemed  as  if  the  brightest 
days  which  they  recalled  were  not  those  of  childhood, 
and  not  those  spent  with  parents,  or  husbands,  but  those 
passed  at  the  feet  of  that  noblest  of  educators  and  in- 
spirers — Agassiz., 

I  have  already  intimated  that  this  question  as  to  what 
kind  of  a  teacher  Mr.  Jones  is  to  be  is  quite  as  impor- 
tant to  himself  as  to  his  pupils.  The  character  of  a 
schoolmaster  has  been,  in  the  years  that  are  past,  noto- 
riously a  dry  one.  It  is  really  sad  to  see  with  what  little 
affection  many  old  teachers  are  regarded  by  those  who 
were  once  their  pupils.  There  are  men  who,  having 
spent  twenty-five  years  of  their  lives  in  teaching,  are 
always  spoken  of  by  the  boys  who  have  been  under  their 
charge  as  "  old  "  somebody  or  other.  "  Old  Boggs,"  or 
**  Old  Noggs,"  or  "  Old  Scroggs  "  has  stories  told  about 
him,  and  is  never  mentioned  in  terms  of  respect — much 


Thomas  Arnold  Jones.  219 

less  in  terms  of  affection.  Now  why  is  it  that  these  men 
are  remembered  so  lightly  ?  It  is  simply  because  they 
are  teachers,  and  not  men.  They  are  all  good  scholars 
enough,  but  they  have  not  that  in  their  characters  and 
personalities  that  wins  the  love  and  respect  of  their  pu- 
pils. I  suppose  it  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  some- 
thing in  the  business  of  teaching  which  tends  to  make 
the  character  dry.  The  drudgery  and  detail  of  teaching 
— are  hardly  more  interesting  than  the  drudgery  and  de- 
tail of  the  work  of  the  farm,  or  of  the  kitchen.  Indeed, 
I  think  the  work  of  handling  the  rake  and  the  hay-fork  a 
more  refreshing  exercise  for  the  mind  and  body  than 
that  of  turning  over  and  over  a  verb,  or  a  sum  in  simple 
addition,  or  even  a  proposition  in  Euclid.  This  ever- 
lasting handling  of  materials  that  have  lost  their  interest 
is  a  very  depressing  process,  to  a  mind  capable  of  higher 
work  ;  and  a  mind  that  can  interest  itself  in  such  work, 
and  find  real  satisfaction  in  it,  is  necessarily  a  dry  and 
unlovely  one.  I  beg  not  to  be  misunderstood  with  re- 
gard to  this  latter  statement.  A  teacher  may  be  inter- 
ested in  his  routine  of  labor  through  the  effect  that  he 
aims  to  work  on  the  young  minds  before  him,  and  he 
should  be  intensely  interested  in  it ;  but  there  is  a  class 
of  teachers  who  seem  to  be  really  interested  in  the 
drudgery  of  repetition,  and  these  are  always  dry  charac- 
ters, and  they  grow  drier  and  drier,  until  they  dry  up 
and  die. 

Mr.  Jones  has  "fitted"  himself  for  teaching,  in  the 


220         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

usual  way.  He  is  prepared,  by  the  mastery  of  his  text- 
books, to  "  teach  school."  The  probability  is  that  he 
will  never  have  any  pupils  who  will  be  as  familiar  with 
these  books  as  himself,  and,  so  far  as  maintaining  his 
position  is  concerned,  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
handle  over  and  over  again  familiar  and  hackneyed  ma- 
terials. Whatever  there  may  be  of  moral  and  mental 
nutriment  in  these  materials,  he  has  already  appro- 
priated and  digested.  There  is  in  them  no  further 
growth  for  him,  and,  so  far  as  any  good  to  him  is  con- 
cerned, he  might  as  well  handle  over  so  many  dry  sticks. 
Exactly  here  is  where  a  multitude  of  teachers  stop. 
They  never  take  a  step  in  advance.  The  work  of  teach- 
ing is  severe,  and  when  they  are  through  with  their  daily 
tasks,  they  are  in  no  mood  for  study,  or  experiment,  or 
intellectual  culture  in  any  broad  and  generous  sense. 
Any  mind  will  starve  on  such  a  diet  as  this,  and  the 
work  of  instruction  becomes  to  such  a  mind  degraded 
below  the  position  of  an  intellectual  employment.  I 
warn  him  against  the  danger  of  falling  into  this  unfruit- 
ful routine,  which  is  certain  to  dwarf  him,  and  give  him 
a  dry  and  unattractive  character.  He  must  make  in- 
tellectual growth  and  progress  by  the  means  of  fresh  in- 
tellectual food,  or  he  must  retrograde. 

There  is  another  reason  why  the  business  of  teaching 
has  a  tendency  to  injure  the  character.  While  contact 
with  young  and  fresh  natures  tends  to  soften  and  beautify 
character  under  some  circumstances,  I  doubt  whether 


Thomas  Arnold  Jones.  221 

this  influence  is  much  felt  by  those  who  are  engaged  in 
teaching.  We  take  into  our  mouths  some  varieties  of 
fruits  as  a  corrective,  which  would  hardly  be  regarded 
as  the  best  of  daily  food.  We  take  medicines  which 
operate  kindly  for  a  brief  period,  but,  if  they  are  con- 
tinued longer,  the  system  becomes  accustomed  to  them, 
and  they  lose  their  medicinal  effect.  It  is  thus  with  the 
influence  of  children.  To  the  literary  man,  or  the  man 
of  business,  the  occasional  society  of  children  and  youth 
is  very  grateful  and  refreshing,  but  it  soon  tires,  and  if 
necessarily  long  continued,  becomes  irksome.  A  really 
vigorous  and  healthy  mind,  forced  to  remain  long  in 
contact  with  the  minds  of  children,  turns  with  a  strong 
appetite  toward  maturity  for  stimulus  and  satisfaction. 
Now  Mr.  Jones  will  be  obliged  to  spend  the  most  of  his 
time  with  children,  or  those  whose  minds  are  immature. 
He  is  almost  constantly  with  those  who  know  less  than 
he  does,  and  in  this  society  he  will  be  quite  likely  to  for- 
get— as  many  schoolmasters  have  forgotten  before  him 
— that  he  is  not  the  wisest  and  most  learned  man  in  the 
world.  It  is  under  these  circumstances  that  pedants  are 
made,  alike  conceited  and  contemptible.  To  a  mature 
mind,  there  is  no  intellectual  stimulus  in  the  constant 
society  of  the  immature,  and  he  is  certain  to  become 
a  dwarfed  man  if  he  does  not  mingle  freely  in  the  so- 
ciety of  his  equals  and  his  superiors.  I  do  not  know  of 
a  man  in  the  v/orld  who,  more  than  the  teacher,  needs 
the  corrective  and  refreshing  and  liberalizing  influences 


222         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

of  general  society  and  generous  culture,  to  keep  him 
from  irreparable  damage  at  the  hand  of  his  calling.  He 
must  mix  with  thinking  men  and  women,  and  he  must 
feed  himself  with  the  products  of  fruitful  lives,  in  books, 
or  his  degeneration  is  certain ;  and  he  will  come  to  be 
regarded  as  a  dry,  pedantic,  uninteresting  man. 

A  man  or  woman  who  does  nothing  but  deal  out  dry 
facts  to  small  minds  is  certain  to  become  over-critical  in 
small  things.  Mr.  Jones  has  not  been  a  schoolmaster  so 
long  as  to  forget  the  peculiar  emotion  once  excited  in  him 
by  the  presence  of  a  "  school-ma'am."  Before  this  day  of 
large  ideas,  to  be  a  school-ma'am  was  to  be  a  stiff,  con- 
ceited, formal,  critical  character,  which  it  was  not  alto- 
gether pleasant  for  a  man  to  come  into  contact  with. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  in  the  work  which  these 
women  performed  that  threw  them  out  of  sympathy  with 
the  free-and-easy  world  around  them.  They  carried 
all  the  formal  proprieties,  all  the  verbal  precisenesses, 
all  the  pattern  dignities  of  the  school-room  into  society  ; 
and  one  could  not  help  feeling  that  they  had  lost  some- 
thing of  the  softness,  and  sweetness,  and  roundness  that 
belong  to  the  unperverted  female  nature.  All  this  has 
been  improved  by  the  modern  correctives,  but  the  rem- 
iniscences will  help  him  to  comprehend  one  phase  of  the 
danger  to  which  he  is  exposed.  I  think  that  if  the  world 
were  to  give  its  unbiased  testimony  touching  this  sub- 
ject, it  would  say  that  it  has  found  teachers  to  be  men 
who  give  undue  importance  to  small  details,  and  who 


Thomas  Arnold  Jones.  223 

seem  to  lose  the  power  to  regard  and  treat  the  great 
questions  which  interest  humanity  most  in  a  large  and 
liberal  way. 

And  now,  before  closing,  let  me  do  the  honor  to  his 
position  which  I  find  it  in  my  heart  to  give,  for  I  hold 
that  position  second  to  none.  The  Christian  teacher  of 
a  band  of  children  combines  the  office  of  the  preacher 
and  the  parent,  and  has  more  to  do  in  shaping  the  mind 
and  the  morals  of  the  community  than  preacher  and 
parent  united.  The  teacher  who  spends  six  hours  a  day 
with  my  child,  spends  three  times  as  many  hours  as  I 
do,  and  twenty-fold  more  time  than  my  pastor  does.  I 
have  no  words  to  express  my  sense  of  the  importance  of 
having  that  office  filled  by  men  and  women  of  the  purest 
motives,  the  noblest  enthusiasm,  the  finest  culture,  the 
broadest  charities,  and  the  most  devoted  Christian  pur- 
pose, A  teacher  should  be  the  strongest  and  most  an- 
gelic man  that  breathes.  No  man  living  is  intrusted 
with  such  precious  material.  No  man  living  can  do  so 
much  to  set  human  life  to  a  noble  tune.  No  man  living 
needs  higher  qualifications  for  his  work.  Is  Mr.  Thomas 
Arnold  Jones  "  fitted  for  teaching  ?  "  I  do  not  ask  him 
this  question  to  discourage  him,  but  to  stimulate  him  to 
an  effort  at  preparation  which  shall  continue  as  long  as 
he  continues  to  teach. 


MRS.    ROSA   HOPPIN   JONES. 

CONCERNING  HER  DISLIKE  OF  ROUTINE  AND  HER 
DESIRE  FOR    CHANGE  AND  AMUSEMENT. 

WHEN  I  first  met  Mrs.  Rosa  Hoppin  Jones,  she 
was  a  restless  child.  She  is  now  married  into 
the  great  Jones  family,  and  henceforward,  through  all 
time,  the  blood  of  the  Hoppins  will  mingle  with  that  of 
the  Joneses.  What  changes  will  be  wrought  by  this 
combination  of  strange  currents  does  not  now  appear, 
though  I  suspect  that  they  will  not  be  strongly  marked. 
Indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  there  have  been 
Hoppins  in  the  family  before,  for  I  find  many  Joneses 
who  constantly  remind  me  of  the  Hoppins,  and  many 
Hoppins  whose  ways  are  suggestive  of  the  Joneses. 

The  children  of  the  Hoppins  do  not  differ  in  any  es- 
sential respect  from  the  children  of  the  Joneses.  Pretty 
nearly  all  children  are,  or  might  be,  Hoppins.  They 
live  upon  little  excitements.  They  are  constantly  on 
the  alert  for  new  sources  of  pleasure.  They  delight  in 
being  away  from  home,  in  new  and  strange  places. 
They  are  miserable  without  society  and  miserable  with- 


Mrs.  Rosa  Hoppin  Jones.  225 

out  change.  Children  have  no  power  of  application  to 
the  performance  of  duty,  no  sources  of  interest  and 
amusement  within  themselves — no  love  of  work.  They 
grasp  a  new  toy  with  eagerness,  and  tire  of  it  before  it  is 
broken.  The  moment  they  are  compelled  to  sit  down, 
they  seize  upon  a  book,  or  ask  for  a  story,  or  whine  with 
discontent.  They  are  unhappy  unless  something  is  go- 
ing on  for  their  amusement,  or  they  are  going  some- 
where, or  doing  something,  with  amusement  for  their 
special  object.  The  genuine  Hoppins  rarely  outgrow 
this  disposition,  but  carry  it  with  them  to  their  graves. 
The  Hoppins  do  not  sit  down  quietly  in  their  houses  of 
an  afternoon,  unless  compelled  to  do  so  by  circumstances. 
They  are  either  in  the  street,  or  at  the  house  of  a  neigh- 
bor. In  the  evening,  either  their  houses  are  full  of  Hop- 
pins, or  they  are  out  visiting  Hoppins,  or  attending  some 
place  of  amusement,  or  doing  something  at  home  to 
make  them  forget  that  they  are  at  home.  Nothing  so 
weighs  down  the  spirit  of  a  Hoppin  as  home  duty  and 
the  confinement  which  it  involves.  Children  are  half 
hated  because  they  interfere  with  indulgence  in  the  pas- 
sion for  going  somewhere  and  doing  something  pleasant, 
and  husbands  become  bores  when  they  happen  to  love 
home,  and  like  to  find  there  a  thrifty  and  contented 
home  life. 

Mrs.  Rosa  Hoppin  Jones  is  still  a  child.  She  is  mar- 
ried, it  is  true,  and  she  has  children,  but  I  do  not  see 
that  she  is  changed  at  all.     She  has  the  same  love  of 


226         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

novelty  that  possessed  her  when  she  was  a  little  girl— ^ 
the  same  greed  for  change — the  same  fondness  for  "  vis- 
iting"— the  same  restless  impatience  .with  work — the 
same  desire  for  constant  and  varied  amusement.  She  is 
fond  enough  of  dress,  but  dress  does  not  absorb  her. 
She  tires  of  the  old  dresses,  it  is  true,  and  greets  the 
new  ones  with  genuine  pleasure,  but,  after  all,  dress  is 
not  her  passion.  Fine  dress  costs  her  too  much  care 
and  trouble,  and  personal  vanity  is  not  her  besetting 
weakness.  She  will  willingly  leave  all  this  matter  of 
fine  dress  to  Mrs.  Royal  Purple  Jones  and  her  circle,  if 
she  can  be  permitted  to  have  what  she  calls  "  a  good 
time."  She  delights  in  a  party  or  a  picnic,  or  an  excur- 
sion, or  a  play,  or  a  pageant,  or  a  circus,  or  an  Ethio- 
pian concert,  or  a  frolic  of  any  kind ;  and  she  never 
passes  a  day  at  home,  even  when  she  has  around  her 
the  society  she  loves  best,  without  the  sense  of  irksome- 
ness.  She  will  either  have  her  house  full  of  those  who 
destroy  all  the  sweet  privacy  and  communion  of  home- 
life,  or  she  will  invade  the  home -life  of  some  other  per- 
son— Hoppin  or  otherwise.  And  yet,  I  like  her.  She  is 
not  a  disagreeable  person  at  all.  Her  nature  is  affec- 
tionate and  pleasant,  her  tastes  are  social,  she  is  gener- 
ous, and  pure,  and  true-hearted — as  much  so  as  she  was 
when  she  was  a  child.  Her  husband  is  fond  of  her,  and 
proud  of  her.  He  has  tried  to  adapt  himself  to  her,  and 
take  delight  in  that  which  most  interests  her ;  yet  I  can- 
not but  think  that  a  man  who  carries  his  burden  of  care 


Mrs.  Rosa  Hoppin  Joties.  227 

would  delight  most  in  a  quiet  home,  and  in  the  certainty 
of  finding  a  contented  wife  in  it,  whenever  he  comes 
back  from  the  work  by  which  he  supports  it. 

There  are  some  women  in  the  world — and  she  seems 
to  be  one  of  them — who  never  heartily,  and  with  devoted 
purpose,  enter  upon  the  work  of  life.  She  does  what 
she  is  compelled  to  do  by  circumstances.  If  circum- 
stances should  compel  her  to  do  nothing,  she  would  do 
nothing.  All  work  is  an  interference  with  her  favorite 
pursuits,  or  her  mode  of  spending  tinle.  Nothing  would 
be  more  agreeable  to  her  than  to  have  the  privileges  of 
going,  and  gadding,  and  seeking  for  fresh  amusements 
all  her  life.  She  certainly  must  recognize  a  difference 
between  herself  and  many  estimable  women  of  her  ac- 
quaintance. She  knows  many  women  who,  from  choice, 
and  on  their  individual  responsibility,  have  undertaken  a 
life-long  task  to  which  they  cheerfully  and  systematically 
devote  their  powers.  They  keep  their  houses,  and  un- 
derstand the  minutest  affairs  connected  with  them.  They 
devote  themselves  to  the  right  training,  in  body,  mind, 
and  morals,  of  the  little  ones  born  of  them.  In  society, 
they  are  the  reliable  ones — the  women  of  character  and 
consideration.  They  are  women  who  use  time  for  good 
ends,  outside  of  themselves,  and  who  take  delight  in  ac- 
tion— in  the  useful  employment  of  their  powers.  She 
must,  I  repeat,  recognize  a  difference  between  herself 
and  these  women.  They  have  their  life  in  exertion ; 
she  has  hers  in  amusement     She  exercises  no  power. 


228         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

but  finds  her  sweetest  satisfaction  in  the  varied  impres- 
sions that  are  made  upon  her  sensibilities. 

There  is  another  class  of  women  from  whom  she  finds 
herself  differing  very  appreciably.  I  allude  to  those 
whose  greatest  delight  is  in  opportunities  for  culture. 
If  she  reads  a  book,  she  reads  it  for  the  same  purpose 
that  a  child  reads  a  book.  She  reads  it  only  for  amuse- 
ment ;  she  never  reads  for  instruction.  The  idea  of 
taking  up  a  book  for  purposes  of  study  is  one  that  never 
occurs  to  her ;  and  she  has  no  delight  in  a  book  that 
taxes  her  mind.  Whatever  she  reads  must  amuse  her — 
interest  her — absorb  her — or  she  lays  it  down  and  calls 
it  stupid.  There  is  no  culture  in  such  reading  as  this — 
there  is  only  dissipation.  She  reads  a  book  for  the 
same  purpose  that  she  attends  a  theatre,  or  engages  in  a 
frolic — for  the  simple  purpose  of  having  her  emotional 
nature  excited,  and  her  sensibilities  played  upon.  She 
never  seeks  for  mental  nourishment  or  mental  exercise 
anywhere.  Thus,  though  she  reads  a  great  deal,  and 
really  enjoys  some  works  that  are  enjoyable  by  sensible 
people,  she  gains  nothing.  She  reads  for  momentary 
excitement,  and  wins  nothing  of  permanent  use.  She 
cannot  weigh  a  book.  She  cannot  even  talk  about  a 
book,  further  than  to  say  that  she  likes  or  dislikes  it. 
The  philosophy  or  the  lesson  of  a  novel  or  a  poem  is 
never  grasped  by  her ;  and  every  book  she  reads  is  to 
her  just  what  Mother  Goose's  Melodies  are  to  the  child, 
and  no  more. 


Mrs.   Rosa  Hoppin  Jones.  229 

She  must  also  perceive  a  difference  between  herself, 
and  those  who  love  society  for  society's  sake.  There 
are  many  women  who  love  society  because  of  the  men- 
tal stimulus  it  brings  them — because  in  the  presence  of 
intelligent  and  sprightly  men  and  women,  they  feel 
themselves  brightened  and  strengthened,  and  because 
they  find  in  such  society  the  most  grateful  opportunity 
to  act  upon  others.  They  are  talking  people  who  think 
before  talking,  and  who  think  while  they  talk.  I  have 
noticed  that  while  Mrs.  Jones  is  exceedingly  fond  of 
society,  she  always  shuns  these  people.  She  can  talk 
nonsense,  after  a  fashion,  but  her  special  delight  is  in 
hearing  other  people  talk  nonsense ;  and  the  man  or 
woman  in  society  who  says  the  drollest  things,  and 
"runs  on"  in  the  wildest  way,  and  does  the  most  to 
amuse  her  and  to  relieve  her  from  the  necessity  of  either 
thinking  or  talking,  is  the  one  who  monopolizes  her  at- 
tention. If  she  has  any  special  horror,  it  attaches  to 
being  cornered  with  a  sensible  man  or  woman,  and  being 
expected  to  talk  sense  with  them.  She  must  see,  there- 
fore, that  she  does  not  go  into  society  with  anything  in 
her  hand  to  pay  for  that  which  she  receives,  except  her 
agreeable  person,  her  willing  ears,  and  her  ready  and 
complimentary  laugh.  These  make  her  popular  enough  ; 
but  she  ought  to  be  just  a  little  ashamed  to  think  that 
her  love  of  society  would  be  destroyed  if  she  could  find 
in  society  none  but  those  who  have  brains  and  a  dispo- 
sition to  use  them  in  sensible  talk.     She  ought  to  be 


230         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

ashamed  that  all  social  circles  are  stupid  to  her  in  the 
degree  that  they  are  brilliant  to  the  wise  and  the  intel- 
lectual and  the  ready-witted.  She  ought  to  be  ashamed 
that  the  clever  buffoon  of  a  company  interests  her  most, 
and  helps  her  most  to  what  she  calls  "  a  good  time." 

She  must  perceive,  too,  that  she  is  very  different  from 
those  women  to  whom  home  is  the  sweetest  spot  on  the 
earth.  I  have  known  many  women  who  have  become  so 
much  enamored  of  home  that  they  will  never  leave  it 
willingly.  They  never  go  into  society  without  a  sense 
of  sacrifice.  They  cling  to  home  as  if  they  had  grown 
to  it — as  if  every  tendril  of  their  heart's  life  had  wound 
itself  around  its  pleasant  things,  and  could  be  only  dis- 
located by  violence.  This  love  of  home  and  this  self- 
confinement  to  its  walls  and  its  duties  may  become,  and 
often  does  become,  an  intensely  morbid  passion  of  the 
soul — just  as  much  to  be  deprecated  as  an  unhealthy 
love  of  change — but  Mrs.  Jones  cannot  but  feel  that  a 
supreme  love  of  home  and  devotion  to  its  duties  are  very 
lovely,  and  that  the  best  women  whom  she  knows  enter- 
tain this  love  and  this  devotion  far  beyond  herself.  Her 
home  is  not  her  refuge,  so  much  as  the  home  of  her 
neighbor  is.  When  she  wishes  to  be  happy — when  she 
feels  the  need  of  some  comforting  and  soothing  influence 
— she  does  not  draw  the  curtains  of  her  home  about  her, 
and  draw  the  loved  ones  of  her  home  closer  to  her  heart, 
but  she  rushes  to  her  neighbor  that  she  may  forget  her 
troubles  in  the  diversions  of  lively  society.     Her  life  is 


Mrs.  Rosa  Hoppin  Jones.  231 

not  at  home.  Home  is  mainly  her  boarding-place  ;  and 
if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  "visiting"  to  be  done, 
she  would  feel  life  to  be  shorn  of  most  of  its  attraction. 
In  short,  she  is  never  so  much  at  home  as  she  is  when 
she  is  not  at  home.  She  is  affected  by  a  chronic  mental 
uneasiness  which  prevents  her  from  remaining  long  in 
any  one  place — especially  in  any  place  to  which  a  duty 
holds  her. 

I  have  thus  endeavored  to  reveal  her  to  herself,  by 
calling  her  attention  to  the  contrast  which  she — con- 
sciously I  must  believe — presents  to  four  different  classes 
of  women  worthy  to  be  respected  and  loved,  viz. :  to 
those  who,  by  definite  purpose,  have  devoted  themselves 
to  a  life  of  active  duty  at  home  and  in  society ;  to  those 
whose  satisfactions  are  found  in  culture  and  its  oppor- 
tunities ;  to  those  who  love  society  for  the  mental  stim- 
ulus and  strength  it  imparts,  and  to  those  who  are 
supremely  in  love  with  home  and  its  quiet  enjoyments. 
To  one  of  these  four  classes,  or  to  sundry,  or  all  of  them 
combined,  she  must  know  that  the  best  women  of  this 
world  belong ;  and  I  believe  that  she  has  sense  enough 
to  understand  and  sensibility  enough  to  feel  that  she  is 
not  of  this  number.  She  is  a  frivolous  woman,  con- 
stantly on  the  lookout  for  new  sources  of  pleasure,  and 
with  no  definite  purpose  except  to  get  along  as  easily  as 
possible  with  such  duties  as  circumstances  have  forced 
upon  her,  and  to  have  just  as  many  "good  times"  as 
circumstances  will  permit  her  to  have. 


232         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

I  hope  she  will  permit  me  to  say,  in  all  frankness, 
that  I  believe  she  is  made  for  something  better  than  this. 
She  has  qualities  of  body  and  mind  and  heart  out  of 
which  a  noble  woman  may  be  made — qualities  which  I 
cannot  help  but  admire  any  more  than  I  can  help  loving 
the  light.  Her  nature  is  open  and  frank,  and  she  will 
admit  at  once  everything  I  have  said  concerning  herself. 

She  possesses  a  pleasant  temper,  a  pure  flow  of  ani- 
mal spirits,  an  affectionate  nature,  and  a  general  desire 
that  others  may  have  just  as  good  a  time  as  she  has. 
But  she  gets  no  mental  growth,  she  accomplishes  no 
worthy  purpose,  she  is  not  the  steadily  radiant  centre 
of  a  worthy  home  life.  She  is  not  doing  a  true  woman's 
work  in  the  world,  for  husband,  children,  and  friends,  or 
gaining  a  true  woman's  wealth  of  character  and  culture. 
She  is,  as  I  have  said  before,  a  child — with  children  on 
her  lap  and  at  her  knee — children  who  do  not  very  pro- 
foundly respect  her — children  whose  acute  perceptions 
have  already  learned  her  weakness — children  who  already 
treat  her  like  a  child.  Is  she  never  to  be  a  woman  ? 
She  ought  not  only  to  love  home,  but  she  ought  to  be  the 
abiding  comer-stone  of  home.  Her  husband's  house 
is  not  home  without  her  presence  and  her  presidency. 
That  restless  mind  of  hers  should  have  steady  work  and 
healthy  food.  It  should  have  a  business — work  that  will 
engage  its  powers  in  the  accomplishment  of  a  worthy 
object — work  that  will  fill  her  time,  and  make  these 
"visits"  of  hers  and  these  "good  times"  of  hers,  the 


Mrs.   Rosa  Hoppin  Jones.  233 

healthy  diversions  and  not  the  absorbing  pursuits  of  her 
life.  There  is  a  world  of  life  and  power  in  her.  It  only 
needs  to  be  held  and  trained  and  put  to  noble,  womanly 
service.  I  hope  she  is  not  so  badly  dissipated  that  her 
will  has  lost  the  decision  necessary  to  execute  the  wish 
which  I  am  sure  now  springs  in  her  heart. 

If  she  should  undertake  reform  let  me  warn  her 
against  a  mistake  that  she  will  be  quite  likely  to  make. 
There  are  not  a  few  women  in  the  world,  considered 
very  useful  and  pious  persons,  who  are  useful  and  pious 
in  the  same  way  that  she  is  useless  and  dissipated.  They 
are  just  as  fond  of  change  and  excitement  as  she  is,  and, 
being  of  a  religious  turn  of  mind,  they  seek  religious  ex- 
citements, and  suppose  themselves  to  be  in  the  path  of 
duty.  They  attend  a  prayer-meeting,  or  make  visits  to 
the  poor,  or  wait  at  a  hospital,  or  go  to  a  benevolent 
sewing-circle,  or  distribute  religious  reading,  or  minister 
to  the  sick,  or  attend  a  stranger's  funeral,  for  the  change 
and  excitement  which  they  find  in  these  things.  They 
are  just  as  fond  of  being  away  from  home  as  she  is,  and 
they  seek  excitement  and  amusement  for  the  same  rea- 
son. I  do  not  think  that  I  entertain  more  respect  for 
them  than  for  Mrs.  Jones.  Perhaps  the  sort  of  dissipa- 
tion which  they  choose  is  preferable  to  hers,  but  their 
motives  can  hardly  be  called  better.  Some  of  these  wo- 
men neglect  their  home  duties  very  much,  and  they  do 
it  simply  because  they  cannot  obtain  in  them  the  excite- 
ment and  amusement  which  they  seek.     Many  of  them 


234  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

are  out  on  what  t,h  ay  suppose  to  be  purely  religious  oi 
benevolent  crraiid5,  when  they  ought  to  be  at  home  with 
their  husbands  and  children.  Becoming  like  these  wo- 
men, she  would  only  change  her  style  of  dissipation, 
without  essentially  changing  her  motive,  or  working,  a 
desirable  revolution  in  her  home-life. 

No  ;  she  must  learn  the  difficult  lesson  that  in  routine 
lives  the  real  charm  of  life  and  the  essential  condition 
of  progress  and  growth.  That  which  is  row  irksom<  to 
her,  must  be  heartily  recognized  as  essential  to  her  hap- 
piness. She  must  learn  to  be  happy  in  the  performance 
of  a  daily  round  of  duty  at  home,  and  learn  to  be  dis- 
satisfied unless  that  daily  round  of  duty  shall  be  pi^r- 
formed.  She  must  learn  to  take  most  pleasure  in  those 
excitements  which  flow  from  action,  not  passion.  These 
excitements  of  sensibility  in  which  she  has  her  life  are 
legitimately  only  diversions  from  routine.  Ah !  this 
routine  which  is  so  hateful  to  her  !  Why — routine  is  the 
roaJ  to  heaven  and  God.  Routine  is  the  pathway  o*^ 
the  stars  and  the  seasons,  the  songs  of  the  tides,  the 
burden  of  all  the  generations.  The  clouds  sing  it  to 
tlie  meadow,  the  meadow  to  the  brook,  the  brook  to  the 
rive  ,  the  river  to  the  sea,  and  the  sea  to  the  clouds 
a^ain,  in  everlasting  circles  of  beauty  and  ministry. 
Routine  is  the  natural  path  of  all  true  human  life.  It  is 
in  hi ;  path  that  the  feet  grow  strong  and  steady,  and 
t'lc  soul  adjusts  itself  familiarly  to  its  conditions.  It  is 
ia  this  path  only  that  genuine  peace  and  contentment 


Mrs.  Rosa  Hoppin  Jones.  235 

are  found  ;  and  she  must,  of  stern  and  settled  purpose, 
hold  herself  to  this  path  until  she  feels  the  upward  lift 
of  its  spiral  round,  and  know  that  she  is  reaching  a 
calmer  atmosphere  and  a  more  womanly  because  a  di- 
viner life.  She  should  never  be  afraid  of  routine.  It 
has  in  it  the  secret  of  her  reformation  and  the  condition 
of  her  success. 

If  she  could  but  see,  as  I  see,  what  a  grace  thought- 
fulness  would  give  her  character,  and  could  measure,  as 
my  imagination  measures,  the  loveliness  that  would 
come  to  her  through  the  chastening  of  her  wayward  im- 
pulses by  work  and  self-devotion,  I  am  sure  she  would 
fall  in  love  with  the  picture,  and  make  any  sacrifice  to 
realize  its  truthfulness.  It  pains  me  to  see  her  so  friv- 
olous, so  childish,  so  incapable  of  work,  so  impatient  of 
home  restraint  and  routine,  so  fond  of  wandering,  so  de- 
voted to  amusement  and  play  ;  for  I  know  that  the  time 
must  come  when  those  animal  spirits  of  hers  will  droop, 
when  the  light  delights  that  now  entertain  her  will  be- 
come insipid,  and  when  she  will  learn  that  her  life  has 
been  wasted,  in  a  childhood  that  rotted  at  last  without 
ripening  into  womanhood. 


JEFFERSON  DAVIS  JONES, 

POLITICIAN. 

CONCERNING  THE  IMMORALITY  OF  HIS  PURSUITS, 

AND  THEIR  EFFECT  UPON  HIMSELF  AND 

HIS  COUNTRY. 

THE  love  of  that  which  we  call  country  is  among  the 
highest  and  noblest  passions  of  the  soul.  The 
love  that  kindles  into  joyful  enthusiasm  at  the  sight  of  a 
national  symbol,  that  feels  personally  every  insult  of- 
fered to  its  object,  that  burns  brightest  in  absence, 
that  is  full  of  chivalry,  and  bravery,  and  self-devotion, 
that  sacrifices  itself  on  battle-fields,  and  counts  such 
sacrifice  a  joy  and  a  glory,  that  lives  even  after  a  coun- 
try is  lost,  and  passes  down  through  many  generations 
as  a  precious  inheritance — this,  if  not  religion  in  one  of 
its  forms  of  manifestation,  is,  certainly,  next  of  kin. 
Indeed,  there  is  something  of  every  love,  and  of  all  love, 
in  patriotism.  Country  is  the  patriot's  mistress,  his 
father  and  his  mother,  his  brother  and  his  sister,  his 
home,  his  teacher,  his  friend,  his  treasure — the  store- 
house into  which  he  garners  all  his  affections — heavenly 


Jefferson  Davis  Jones.  237 

and  human — all  his  interests,  aspirations,  hopes ;  and 
when  necessity  demands  it,  he  turns  his  face  and  feet 
from  mistress,  father,  mother,  brother,  sister,  home, 
friend,  and  treasure,  and  gives  himself  to  his  country, 
in  obedience  to  motives  that  are  hardly  to  be  distin- 
guished from  the  highest  religious  feelings  and  convic- 
tions which  his  bosom  holds.  I  think  it  would  be  hard 
to  tell  where,  in  the  sublimer  walks  of  the  soul,  patriot- 
ism leaves  off  and  religion  begins.  In  many  of  its  hum- 
bler manifestations  patriotism  doubtless  halts  this  side 
of  heaven  ;  but  when  it  becomes  sacrificial,  its  incense 
curls  around  the  pillars  of  The  Eternal  Throne. 

It  is  to  Christian  patriotism  that  we  are  to  look  for  all 
the  motives  which  have  any  legitimate  place  in  govern- 
ment, and  the  management  of  public  affairs,  yet  it  is  to 
patriotism  that  resort  is  rarely  made.  For  the  selfish- 
ness of  supremely  selfish  men  has  organized  other  and 
baser  motives,  by  which  all  public  policy  is  fashioned. 
The  love  of  power,  the  love  of  office,  and  the  love  of 
money  have  all  conspired  in  the  organization  of  parties, 
which  live  upon  lies,  and  which  uniformly  die,  at  last, 
for  lack  of  dupes,  or  perish  of  their  own  corruptions. 

It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  two  equally  patriotic 
men  may  differ  widely  in  their  views  of  public  policy — 
so  widely  that  their  opinions  may  furnish  a  legitimate 
basis  for  opposite  political  parties.  Theoretically,  there- 
fore, political  parties  have  legitimate  ground  to  stand 
upon,  but,  practically,  they  are  a  curse  to  the  country. 


238         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

For  the  love  of  party  has  always  usurped  the  place  of 
the  love  of  country.  Everything,  on  every  side,  is  done 
in  the  name  of  patriotism,  of  course  ;  but  patriotism  is 
made  subservient  to,  and  is  confounded  with,  party  in- 
terest. Men  forget  "our  country"  in  their  mad  devo- 
tion to  "  our  side."  It  has  always  been  so  ;  I  fear  it  will 
always  be  so.  History  makes  a  uniform  record  of  the 
fact  that,  however  pure  the  birth  of  a  party  may  be,  and 
however  patriotic  may  be  the  motives  of  the  people  who 
sustain  it,  it  passes  early  into  the  hands  of  designing 
men,  whose  supremely  selfish  love  of  power  controls  its 
action  and  directs  its  issues,  solely  for  personal  and 
party  advantage. 

Every  thorough  politician  in  the  world — every  man  in 
whom  love  of  party  is  stronger  than  love  of  country — 
every  man  in  whom  the  love  of  power  is  the  predomi- 
nant motive — is  a  possible  traitor.  It  matters  not  what 
party  he  may  belong  to.  I  make  the  proposition  broad 
enough  to  embrace  all  parties,  and  believe  in  it,  as  I  be- 
lieve in  any  fundamental  truth  of  the  universe.  A  poli- 
tician is  a  man  who  looks  at  all  public  affairs  from  a  self- 
ish standpoint.  He  loves  power  and  office,  and  all 
that  power  and  office  bring  of  cash  and  consideration. 
Public  measures  are  all  tried  by  the  standard  of  party 
interest.  A  measure  which  threatens  to  take  away  his 
power,  or  to  reduce  his  personal  or  party  influence, 
is  always  opposed.  A  measure  which  promises  to 
strengthen  his  power  or  that  of  the  party  to  which  he  is 


Jefferson  Davis  Jones.  239 

attached,  is  always  favored.  The  good  of  his  country 
is  a  matter  of  secondary  consideration.  His  venality 
and  untruthfulness  are  as  calculable,  under  given  cir- 
cumstances, as  if  he  were  Satan  himself.  I  know  of  no 
person  so  reliably  unconscientious  as  the  thorough  poli- 
tician, and  there  is  no  politician  of  any  stripe  that  I 
would  trust  with  the  smallest  public  interest  if  I  could 
not  see  that  his  selfishness  harmonized  with  the  require- 
ments of  the  service.  Therefore,  I  say  that  every  poli- 
tician is  a  possible  traitor.  There  is  not  a  man  in 
America  who  loves  his  party  better  than  his  country,  or 
who  permits  party  motives  to  control  him  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  duties  as  a  citizen,  who  would  not  betray 
his  country  at  the  call  of  his  party. 

I  introduce  this  paper  upon  Mr.  Jefferson  Davis 
Jones,  with  these  statements,  that  I  may  the  more  easily 
show  him  to  himself,  and  justify  my  opinion  of  him  ;  for 
it  will  be  hard  for  me  to  convince  him  and  the  public  of 
his  immorality.  The  public  mind  is  thoroughly  sophis- 
ticated on  this  subject.  The  public  has  a  suitable 
horror  of  gambling  with  dice  and  cards,  but  it  is  quite 
ready  to  call  those  most  indecent  and  immoral  games  of 
chance  which  Wall  street  plays  "operations  in  stocks." 
Nay,  the  public  permits  these  operations  to  fix  the  prices 
of  the  property  it  holds  in  its  hands,  and,  indirectly,  of 
the  bread  it  eats.  It  is  quite  as  oblivious  of  the  real 
character  of  the  politicians  who  lead  it  by  the  nose.  A 
clever  politician  who  manages  to  keep  power  in  his  hands 


240         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

for  personal  and  party  ends — who  is  unscrupulous  in  the 
choice  of  means  for  securing  his  purposes — who  is  not 
even  suspected  of  a  patriotic  motive  in  any  act  of  his 
life — is  regarded  with  a  degree  of  admiration  and  es- 
teem. He  wins  the  object  of  his  desire,  and  his  success 
crowns  his  efforts  with  respectability.  The  man  in  whose 
honor  Mr.  Jones  is  named,  finds  it  for  his  personal 
and  political  interest  to  plunge  the  country  which  has 
honored  him  into  the  most  terrible  war  known  in  history, 
and  the  people  are  filled  with  horror  at  his  treachery 
and  his  ingratitude.  Mr.  Jones,  actuated  by  the  same 
motive,  opposes  him  ;  and  owes  to  circumstances,  and 
not  to  his  principles,  the  fact  that  he  is  not  in  the  other's 
shoes.  If  Jefferson  Davis  Jones,  who  now  prates  of 
liberty  and  patriotism  and  sundry  party  words  and 
phrases,  were  in  the  dominions  of  Jefferson  Davis,  he 
would  be  his  most  willing  instrument,  without  the  slight- 
est change  in  the  ruling  motive  of  his  life. 

Does  he  not  feel  that  this  is  so  ?  Does  he  not  feel 
that  to  all  intents  and  purposes  he  makes  merchandise 
of  his  country  ?  Does  he  not  regard,  and  has  he  not  for 
years  regarded,  politics  as  a  grand,  exciting  game  of 
mingled  chance  and  skill,  at  which  opposing  sets  of  men 
play,  not  that  advantage  may  accrue  to  their  country  or 
its  institutions,  but  that  the  stakes  of  power  and  plunder 
may  be  won  by  them  for  selfish  use  ?  Of  course  he 
knows  this  ;  but  it  is  not  so  much  a  matter  of  course  that 
he  knows  this  view  to  be  immoral,  and  this  treatment  of 


Jefferson  Davis  Jones.  241 

his  country  sacrilegious.  He  has  been  bred  to  these 
things,  among  men  who  were  honored  and  respected. 
He  has  learned  to  gamble  for  power  from  men  who  first 
used  him  as  their  tool.  He  has  learned  all  the  tricks  of 
the  political  hell.  He  pulls  wires,  and  plays  puppets, 
and  veils  his  selfish  purposes  behind  sacred  names,  and 
lies  to  the  people  whom  he  makes  his  dupes.  Open 
falsehood,  wicked  innuendo,  cunning  evasion,  shameless 
suppression,  downright  fraud — not  one  of  these  instru- 
ments does  he  hesitate  to  use  when  occasion  demands 
for  securing  his  personal  and  party  ends.  I  tell  him 
that  these  lies  and  subterfuges,  over  which  he  laughs  and 
jests  in  private,  are  outrageous  crimes  against  liberty, 
against  good  government,  against  a  patriotic  people, 
against  the  public  morals,  against  God. 

What  is  this  country  that  he  is  playing  with  so  care- 
lessly— whose  interests  he  is  making  secondary  to  his 
own  ?  It  is  the  present  home  of  fifty  millions  of  people 
— the  future  home  of  uncounted  hundreds  of  millions  of 
people,  whose  destiny  is  to  be  shaped  and  decided  in  a 
great  degree  by  the  institutions  of  the  country,  and  the 
men  who  make  and  administer  its  laws.  He  cannot 
tamper  with  a  single  human  right  without  awakening 
the  groans  of  whole  generations  of  men.  He  cannot 
cram  a  lie  down  the  public  throat,  and  manage  to  in- 
corporate that  lie  into  public  life,  without  vitiating  the 
issues  of  that  life  through  all  coming  time.  He  and  his 
friends  cannot  lead  the  nation  into  mistakes  of  theory 


242         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

and  practice  without  leading  it  into  certain  and  serious 
disaster.  The  rebellion  which  cost  us  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  priceless  lives,  and  thousands  of  millions  of 
treasure,  was  entirely  the  work  of  politicians.  The  peo- 
ple of  this  country  are  patriotic  and  loyal,  when  they 
are  not  deceived  by  politicians.  We  have  only  poli- 
ticians to  fear.  Selfish  men  have  played  their  games 
>  for  power  over  this  country  too  long  ;  and  they  have 
already  had  one  serious  day  of  reckoning.  Not  a  man 
fell  in  the  horrible  war  to  which  we  have  alluded,  who 
did  not  owe  his  death  to  those  scheming  politicians, 
who,  in  the  past,  have  regarded  their  country  simply  as 
a  chess-board  on  which  they  could  play  their  game  for 
power. 

What  is  this  country  that  he  is  playing  with  so  care- 
lessly? I  ask  again.  It  is  that  for  which  a  million 
men  have  voluntarily  risked  all  of  good  that  is  covered 
by  the  name  of  "life."  It  is  that  for  which  the  great 
and  generous  have  been  willing  to  relinquish  home  de- 
lights, and  home  pursuits,  and  fond  hopes  and  expecta- 
tions, taking  upon  themselves  the  burdens  of  the  camp, 
and  yielding  themselves  to  the  sad  chances  of  the  bat- 
tle-field. It  is  that  for  which  a  nation  of  Christians 
has  prayed  before  God  with  faithful  persistence,  men- 
tioning its  name  with  tenderest  love  and  reverence, 
morning  and  night,  among  the  names  they  love  best. 
It  is  the  inheritance  of  pur  precious  children — an  in- 
heritance that  may  be  one  of  honor — that  may  be  one 


Jefierson  Davis  Jones.  243 

of  shame.  It  is  the  property  of  history.  Far  down  the 
vista  of  time,  I  see  the  man  (whom  it  requires  no  pro- 
phetic eye  to  see)  whose  mind  will  weigh  the  character 
of  this  country,  and  whose  pen  will  give  his  judgment 
record.  I  see  him  sit  in  the  light  of  a  dawning  millen- 
nium, while  the  lurid  fires  that  so  recently  filled  the  sky 
with  flame,  only  feebly  light  the  hem  of  the  far  horizon. 
Mr.  Jones  and  I  will  have  been  dust  five  hundred  years, 
when  that  calm  pen  shall  begin  its  story — a  story  which 
shall  determine  for  all  the  following  generations  of  men 
whether  he  and  I  had  a  country  or  whether  we  died 
without  one,  or  whether  we  were  worthy  of  one, — a 
story  which  shall  tell  whether  we  wasted  our  inheritance 
— whether  we  bartered  it  away  for  party  advantage,  or 
saved  and  sanctified  it  by  our  patriotism.  This  man, 
so  certainly  unborn — so  certain  to  live — has  this  coun- 
try in  his  hands  to  present  to  the  great  futurity  of  the 
world.  He  has  me  and  he  has  Mr.  Jones  and  all  that 
we  hold  dear  in  his  hands,  and  we  cannot  help  our- 
selves ;  and  this  country  of  ours  we  hold  in  trust  for 
him.  Shall  we  betray  our  trust,  and  damn  ourselves 
and  our  country  together  ? 

That  which  gives  me  most  apprehension  for  the  future 
of  my  country  is  the  fact  that  its  affairs  are  in  the  hands 
of  such  men  as  he,  and  are  likely  to  be.  Theoretically, 
we  are  a  self-governing  nation  ;  practically,  we  are  gov- 
erned by  designing  politicians.  Theoretically,  the  peo- 
ple  select   their  own   candidates   for   office,   and    elect 


244         Concertiing  the  Jones  Family. 

them ;  practically,  every  candidate  for  office  is  selected 
by  the  politicians,  the  candidate  himself  being  of  the 
number,  and  the  people  are  only  used  for  voting,  and 
for  confirming  the  decrees  of  their  political  leaders. 
For  fifty  years  this  country  has  not  been  governed  in 
the  interest  of  patriotism,  or  been  governed  by  the  peo- 
ple. For  fifty  years,  patriotism  has  not  ruled  in  Wash- 
ington, or  in  any  of  the  political  centres  of  the  nation. 
Occasionally,  a  true  patriot  has  been  placed  in  power, 
but  it  has  always  been  a  matter  of  accident.  Occasion- 
ally, a  patriot  has  been  "  available  "  for  carrying  out  the 
purposes  of  the  politicians,  in  their  strife  for  power. 
But  often  imbecility  and  rascality  have  been  found 
"  available,"  and  politicians  have  not  failed  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  the  fact.  Selfish  party  men  have  ruled  the 
country,  and  selfish  party  men  are  trying  to  ruin  it.  It 
is  beyond  dispute  that  the  political  leaders  of  the  peo- 
ple of  this  country  have  uniformly  been  men  without 
religion,  and  without  even  the  pretension  of  religion. 
When  a  political  man  or  a  candidate  for  office  has  been 
found  to  be  religious,  the  fact  has  been  advertised  as  a 
remarkable  one.  Let  us  look  at  the  great  political 
leaders ;  then  at  the  lesser  ones  ;  then  at  the  whole 
brood  of  petty  politicians  who  are  their  tools  and  the 
recipients  of  their  favors.  There  cannot  be  found  in  all 
the  country  a  class  of  men  less  regardless  of  Christian 
obligations,  or  more  thoroughly  the  devotees  of  selfish 
interest 


Jefferson  Davis  Jones.  24$ 

Yet  this  is  called  a  Christian  nation !  The  theories 
and  institutions  of  the  country  are  Christian,  but  the 
practice  and  the  administration  has  as  little  to  do  with 
Christianity  as  possible.  Do  Mr.  Jones  and  his  asso- 
ciates, when  laying  out  and  prosecuting  a  political  cam- 
paign, ever  consult  Christianity, — either  its  dictates  or 
its  interests  ?  Is  he  Christian  in  his  treatment  of  an 
opponent  ?  Is  he  particular  to  use  only  Christian 
means  in  forwarding  the  interests  of  his  candidates  and 
his  party  ?  Does  he  push  a  Christian  principle  any 
farther  than  it  will  pay  as  a  party  principle  ?  Does  he 
not  uniformly  pander  to  the  prejudices  of  the  ignorant 
and  flatter  the  vices  of  the  vicious,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  he  hypocritically  pretends  to  respect  the  religious 
convictions  of  the  better  elements  of  society  ?  Does  he 
not  mingle  with  the  degraded,  and  court  the  smiles  of 
those  who  live  upon  social  vices,  and  descend  to  the 
meanest  tricks  to  compass  his  ends  ?  He  can  have  but 
one  answer  to  these  questions.  The  political  machinery 
of  this  country — that  by  which  elections  are  carried  as 
they  always  are  carried,  in  the  interest  of  a  party — is 
simply  and  irredeemably  unchristian.  It  has  not  in  it 
even  the  poor  quality  of  decency. 

I  have  written  in  this  general  way  about  these  things, 
because  the  subject  of  my  paper  is  only  the  representa- 
tive of  a  class,  and  because  I  am  more  interested  in 
my  country  than  I  am  in  either  him  or  his  class  ;  but  it 
is  proper  that  I  say  something  to  him  about  the  effect  of 


246         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

his  political  life  upon  himself.  He  has  probably  seen 
enough  of  it  to  learn  that  its  lack  of  religious  principle 
is  not  attributable  entirely  to  the  fact  that  only  bad 
men  engage  in  it.  He  has  learned  that  many  men 
who  have  gone  into  political  life  good  men  have  come 
out  of  it  bad  men.  He  has  seen  Christian  men  there 
who  failed  to  maintain  their  integrity  among  the  temp- 
tations that  assailed  them.  He  has  seen  good  men 
elected  to  office,  by  combinations  of  influences,  who, 
in  their  selfish  desire  to  retain  their  places,  have 
thrown  themselves  into  the  hands  of  such  as  he  and 
have  become  as  mean  and  unprincipled  as  any  of 
them.  A  minister  of  the  gospel,  turned  politician, 
will  show  the  degrading  power  of  his  new  associations 
quicker  than  any  other  man.  There  has  seemed  to  be 
an  impression  in  the  minds  of  Christian  men  that  du- 
plicity and  trickery  are  indispensable  to  a  politician, 
and  not  only  necessary,  but  justifiable.  It  has  been  the 
practice  to  recognize  other  than  a  Christian  rule  of  ac- 
tion in  political  affairs,  so  that,  after  a  Christian  man 
has  been  in  political  life  sufficiently  long,  he  usually 
wears  out  his  Christianity.  It  is  impossible  for  a  Chris- 
tian to  go  into  political  life,  and  stay  there  as  a  party 
man,  and  join  in  the  operation  of  party  machinery,  and 
retain  a  conscience  void  of  offence. 

How  is  it  with  Mr.  Jones  ?  I  remember  the  time 
when  he  was  not  only  a  patriot,  but  professedly  a  Chris- 
tian.    I  remember  when  he  first  held  office  ;  and  of  the 


Jefferson  Davis  Jones.  247 

Christian  patriotism  which  actuated  him  in  his  first 
party  strife,  I  never  had  a  doubt.  He  worked  faithfully 
and  well  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the  right.  The  self- 
ish crowd  with  whom  he  now  associates  looked  upon 
him  with  approval,  because  he  helped  them ;  but  they 
regarded  him  as  verdant,  and  knew  with  measurable 
certainty  that  his  generous  zeal  would  soon  find  rest  in 
calculating  selfishness.  His  term  of  office  expired,  and 
he  was  in  want  of  office  again,  and  then  he  found  him- 
self in  the  hands  of  those  who,  he  had  already  learned, 
were  unprincipled.  They  had  called  upon  him  for 
money  for  party  purposes — money  which  he  knew  would 
be  spent  in  an  unchristian  way,  and  he  had  given  it  to 
them.  He  became  aware  that  they  had  placed  a  market 
value  on  his  Christian  character,  and  had  calculated  on 
the  amount  that  his  patriotic  unselfishness  would  add  to 
their  capital.  He  learned  then  to  scheme  with  them. 
He  grew  unscrupulous  in  the  use  of  means.  He  learned 
to  regard  politics  as  a  game,  and  he  determined  to  be- 
come a  player.  It  took  but  a  short  time  for  him  to  be- 
come an  adept,  and  when  he  had  conquered  the  political 
trade  thoroughly,  he  had  become  a  demoralized  man.  I 
do  not  think  him  a  debauchee,  or  a  thief,  or  a  murderer  ; 
but  he  has  lost  his  sincerity,  his  moral  honesty,  his 
Christian  purpose,  and  his  patriotism.  I  can  hardly 
imagine  a  character  more  utterly  valueless  than  his. 
He  has  come  to  measuring  everything  by  a  party  stand- 
ard.    He  looks  upon  every  public  question,  every  mat- 


248  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

ter  of  policy,  and  every  event,  as  a  party  man.  He 
belongs  to  that  hellish  brood  of  political  buzzards  who 
cannot  hear  of  a  battle,  or  scent  a  rumor  of  war  or  of 
peace  even,  without  calculating  first  what  party  advan- 
tage can  be  gained  from  it. 

I  suppose  that  if  I  were  to  give  utterance  to  my  wishes 
and  my  aspirations  touching  the  future  of  my  country,  I 
should  be  called  Utopian.  But  that  which  is  possible, 
and  that  which  is  desirable  on  every  Christian  and  patri- 
otic consideration  is  not  Utopian,  and  I  should  be  for- 
ever ashamed  of  being  scared  by  the  taunt.  This  coun- 
try is  to  be  saved  to  freedom  and  to  happiness  and  to 
justice,  if  saved  at  all,  by  the  Christian  patriotism  of  its 
people,  and  by  the  institution,  in  the  place  of  party 
machinery  managed  by  unpi-incipled  men,  of  some  sys- 
tem of  popular  cxpressicL  that  shall  place  good  men  in 
power,  and  bad  men  in  prison,  v/here  they  belong.  It 
is  easy  for  Mr.  Jones  and  his  associates  to  sneer, — easy 
to  say  ihat  this  is  all  impracticable,  that  the  people  can- 
not possibly  prevent  him  from  pulling  the  wires,  and 
that,  moreover,  he  will  continue  to  use  the  people  for 
his  own  selfish  ends,  and  use  them  with  their  consent. 
I  say  it  is  not  impracticable,  because  it  is  in  the  line  of 
Christian  and  patriotic  duty,  ar.d  is  not  impossible.  I 
say  that  this  change  must  be  niudc,  or  we  must,  as  a  na- 
tion, be  forever  going  through  financial  revolutions,  so- 
cial convulsions,  destructive  wars,  and  all  that  terrible 
catalogue  of  national  caiamities  which  attend  the  man- 


Jefferson  Davis  Jones.  249 

agement  of  a  nation  for  selfish  ends.  The  Christian  and 
patriotic  men  of  this  nation  must  rise,  under  Christian 
and  patriotic  leaders,  whom  they  shall  choose,  and  de- 
pose the  crew  with  which  Mr.  Jones  holds  association,  or 
we  must,  as  a  nation,  drift  along  in  a  state  of  constant 
social  warfare,  to  land  at  last  in  anarchy.  A  nation  that 
is  governed  by  its  worst  men,  who  have  at  command  its 
worst  elements  for  that  purpose,  must  go  to  wreck. 
Only  the  nation  that  governs  its  worst  men,  and  holds 
its  worst  elements  in  subjection,  can  live.  Mr.  Jones 
and  his  friends  must  die,  therefore,  or  the  nation  must 
die.  Which  shall  it  be  ? 
II* 


DR.  BENJAMIN   RUSH  JONES. 

CONCERNING   THE  POSITION  OF  HIMSELF  AND  HIS 
PROFESSION. 

I  HAVE  abundant  reason  to  hold  this  gentleman  in 
profound  and  tender  respect.  His  devotion  to  me  in 
sickness,  his  benevolent  self-sacrifice  among  the  poor, 
his  sympathy  for  the  young  and  the  weak,  his  uniform 
kindness  and  politeness  among  all  classes  of  people, 
and  the  Christian  spirit  and  the  Christian  counsel  that 
he  has  been  able  to  bear  through  all  those  scenes  of 
suffering  among  which  his  life  is  mainly  passed,  have 
won  my  reverent  affection.  I  have  never  heard  him 
utter  a  coarse  word  in  the  presence  of  a  woman,  or  jest 
with  coarse  women  upon  themes  with  which  his  profes- 
sion makes  him  unpleasantly  familiar.  He  is  a  Chris- 
tian gentleman  ;  and  may  God  bless  him  for  all  the 
comfort  and  courage  which  he  has  borne  to  a  thousand 
beds  of  suffering  and  dying,  for  all  the  pleasant  words 
he  has  spoken  to  the  tender  and  the  young,  and  for 
the  excellent  personal  example  which,  throughout  all 
his  life  of  ministry,  has  made  every  act  an  exhortation 


Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  yones.  251 

to  noble  endeavor  and  his  presence  a  constant  bene- 
diction. 

I  have  noticed  in  my  intercourse  with  him  his  pro- 
found respect  for  his  profession.  He  has  felt  that  a 
share  of  its  honor  was  in  his  keeping.  A  light  word 
spoken  of  it  has  been  felt  by  him  as  a  personal  insult. 
He  has  regarded  it  with  more  than  the  love  of  a  lover; 
he  has  guarded  its  honor  with  more  than  the  sensitive- 
ness and  chivalry  of  a  son.  He  has  believed  in  it,  and 
honestly  labored  to  give  it  a  high  place  in  public  esteem. 
This  enthusiastic  love  and  admiration  of  hb  profession, 
which  he  has  brought  down,  without  abatement,  from, 
the  days  of  early  study,  is  accompanied  by  the  most  de- 
voted fraternal  feeling  toward  his  professional  brethren. 
He  guards  their  honor  jealously,  and  carries  more  than 
his  share  of  that  esprit  de  corps  which  holds  together 
the  body  of  physicians  of  which  he  is  the  best  mem- 
ber. This  love  of  his  profession,  and  this  regard  for 
those  who  practise  it,  lead  him,  on  all  occasions,  to 
take  sides  against  the  public  in  such  medical  disputes  or 
contests  as  may  arise,  and  tempt  him  into  positions 
which  compromise  his  candor  and  betray  his  conscience. 
The  only  place  in  which  he  has  shown  himself  to  the 
public  as  a  weak  man  has  been  in  the  position  of  de- 
fender of  professional  incompetency — a  position  taken 
simply  through  an  extravagant  respect  for  his  profession, 
and  an  incorrect  view  of  the  duty  which  he  owes  to  its 
practitioners.    A  professional  brother,   prosecuted  for 


252         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

malpractice,  is  always  sure  that  he  will  do  what  he  can 
to  clear  him.  Any  notorious  case  of  incompetent  medi- 
cal or  surgical  management,  which  the  public  gets  hold 
of,  and  tosses  about,  to  the  disgrace  of  the  profession 
and  the  physician  who  is  responsible  for  it,  this  man 
will  always  take  up  and  treat  tenderly.  People  hav? 
learned  that  he  will  not  patiently  hear  anything  reflect- 
ing on  his  profession,  or  those  who  represent  it.  This  is 
true  with  relation  to  what  is  known  in  the  world  as  "  the 
regular  profession."  There  is  a  "regular"  profession 
and  there  is  an  "  irregular"  profession.  I  do  not  know 
that  his  charities  ever  extended  themselves  far  enough 
to  embrace  any  member  of  the  medical  fraternity  who 
was  not  strictly  "  regular."  If  he  has  been  devotedly 
friendly  to  all  who  have  practised  in  the  regular  way,  he 
has  been  uncompromisingly  bitter  toward  all  who  have 
practised  in  an  irregular  way,  with  or  without  regular 
diplomas.  The  only  bitterness  I  ever  heard  from  his 
lips  was  poured  upon  the  head  of  some  "  quack,"  or 
upon  quackery  generally.  I  do  not  think  that  he  ever, 
for  a  moment,  admitted  to  himself  that  an  irregular  phy- 
sician had  cured  a  case  of  disease,  or  could  possibly 
prescribe  for  a  case  of  disease  intelligently.  He  would 
never  admit  the  most  intelligent  quack  that  lives  to 
a  professional  or  social  equality  with  himself.  He  has 
only  contempt  for  the  whole  brood,  and  for  all  who  have 
anything  to  do  with  them.  He  cannot  take  himself  so- 
cially away  from  many  whom  he  calls  dupes  to  quack- 


Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  Jones.  253 

ery,  but,  in  his  heart,  he  partly  pities,  partly  blames,  and 
partly  despises  them  all. 

Now,  Dr.  Jones  is  not  generally  an  unreasonable  man, 
and  I  insist  on  his  taking  good-naturedly  a  few  things  I 
have  to  say  to  and  about  him.  I  know  that  he  thinks  I 
have  no  right  to  touch  upon  a  subject  like  this,  but,  as 
a  representative  of  the  public,  I  know  I  have,  and  I  pro- 
pose to  do  it.  Is  the  profession  of  medicine,  practised 
in  the  most  regular  way,  by  the  most  regular  men,  so 
nearly  perfect  in  its  operations  and  the  results  as  to  de- 
serve the  enthusiastic  respect  which  he  accords  to  it  ? 
Does  he  find  medicine  so  uniformly  successful  and  so 
reliable  in  his  own  hands,  with  the  best  regularly  ac- 
quired knowledge  to  guide  him  in  its  exhibition,  that  he 
can  have  any  degree  of  certainty  that  he  is  doing  the 
best  thing  there  is  to  be  done  ?  Is  the  profession  of 
medicine,  as  it  is  understood  and  practised  in  this  coun- 
try, so  rich  in  knowledge  that  it  can  afford  to  shut  out  of 
itself  such  truth  as  may  flow  to  it  through  irregular  chan- 
nels ?  Is  it  so  successful  in  the  treatment  of  disease, 
and  so  much  more  successful  in  the  treatment  of  disease 
than  various  forms  of  the  irregular  practice,  that  it  has 
a  right  to  condemn  without  exception  or  qualification  the 
irregular  practitioner,  and  call  him  a  quack  ?  The  ar- 
rogance of  the  position  which  medical  men  assume,  in 
this  and  other  countries,  is  an  insult  to  the  spirit  of  the 
age  and  the  intelligence  of  the  people,  and  has  been  car- 
ried  to  the  extreme  of  absolute  inhumanity.     I   have 


254         Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

known  a  regular  physician  approach  the  victim  of  an 
accident,  and,  when  his  immediate  services  were  need- 
ed, turn  away  from  the  wretch  without  lifting  a  finger, 
simply  because  he  saw  that  he  should  be  obliged  to 
work  in  company  with  an  irregular  physician.  I  have 
known  a  regular  physician  to  go  a  hundred  miles  to 
see  a  patient  lying  at  the  gates  of  death,  with  a 
dozen  hearts  ready  to  break  around  her,  and  turn  on  his 
heel  without  looking  on  her,  and  leave  her  to  die,  not 
because  he  did  not  find  a  "regular"  physician  at  her 
bedside,  as  a  regular  attendant,  but  because  that  regular 
physician  did  not  happen  to  belong  to  a  certain  medical 
society  ! 

I  repeat  that  Dr.  Jones  is  not  generally  unreasonable, 
and  I  should  like  to  know  what  he  thinks  of  this.  I 
could  multiply  instances  like  these  that  I  have  given 
him  ;  and  what  do  they  prove  ?  To  my  mind  they  prove 
simply  that  esprit  dc  corps  in  his  profession  has  degene- 
rated into  contemptible  clannishness  and  partisanship. 
I  doubt  whether  he  would  decidedly  condemn  the  acts 
to  which  I  have  alluded,  and  have  little  question  that  he 
would  be  guilty  of  similar  ones  on  occasion.  He  and 
his  professional  brethren  act  as  if  they  believe  that  they 
hold  the  exclusive  right  to  administer  medicine  and  get 
pay  for  it,  as  if  they  possess  exclusively  all  medical 
knowledge  worth  possessing,  and  as  if  they  mean  to 
maintain  their  rights  against  all  disputants,  by  any  avail- 
able means.     They  are  not  alone  a  mutual  admiration 


Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  Jones.  255 

society ;  they  are  a  mutual  insurance  company ;  they 
mean  to  lord  it  medically  over  the  community,  and  over 
each  other.  No  man  of  the  profession  can  step  outside 
of  the  regular  field  to  experiment  and  prosecute  inquiries 
without  having  his  heels  tripped  from  under  him.  Every 
man  must  toe  the  regular  crack,  or  he  is  at  once  socially 
and  professionally  proscribed.  Now  I  confess  that  this 
is  spirited  and  positive  treatment,  but  it  strikes  me  to 
be  out  of  keeping  with  the  times,  and  inconsistent  with 
the  good  of  the  public.  Moreover,  what  he  calls  quackery 
and  the  patronage  of  quackery,  thrive  on  this  treatment. 
The  freely  thinking  and  independent  men  of  his  profes- 
sion leave  him,  disgusted,  and  the  people  rebel. 

Why  should  Dr.  Jones  and  his  associates  set  up  for 
exclusive  possessors  of  medical  wisdom  ?  They  know 
very  well  that  all  medicine  is  empiricism,  and  that  medi- 
cine has  made  advances  only  by  empiricism.  Their 
true  policy  is  to  take  into  their  hands,  and  honestly  and 
faithfully  try,  all  those  remedies  which  have  received 
the  endorsement  of  any  considerable  number  of  intelli- 
gent men.  Their  duty  is  to  have  their  eyes  constantly 
open  for  improvement,  and  to  take  it  when  and  where 
they  can  get  it.  Almost  every  system  of  quackery  under 
heaven  has  been  found  to  have  in  it  some  good — some 
basis  of  truth — some  valuable  power  or  principle — ^which 
it  has  always  been  the  business  of  the  regular  profession 
to  seek  out  and  incorporate  into  their  system.  No  man 
of  sense  believes  in  universal  remedies ;  but  because  a 


256         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

remedy  is  not  universal  it  is  not,  therefore,  valueless. 
Cold  water  cannot  cure  every  ill  that  flesh  is  heir  to, 
but  the  fact  that  it  can  cure  a  great  many  of  them  is  just 
as  well  established  as  any  fact  in  natural  philosophy. 
The  regular  profession,  however,  will  not  use  cold  water, 
because  cold  water  is  used  by  quacks,  and  because  cold 
water  is  claimed  by  some  quacks  to  be  a  universal  rem- 
edy. Preissnitz  was  a  quack — regarded  and  treated  by 
the  medical  profession  as  a  quack — but  the  world  has 
recognized  him  as  a  philosopher  and  a  benefactor,  and 
after  the  prejudices  against  him  shall  have  been  out- 
lived, that  which  he  has  done  for  medicine  will  slowly, 
and  under  protest,  be  adopted  into  regular  practice. 

Dr.  Jones  and  his  professional  brethren  have  a  very 
hearty  contempt  for  homoeopathy,  but  homoeopathy  is 
to  do  him  and  his  friends  good,  in  spite  of  themselves. 
No  man  of  sense  believes  that  allopathy  is  all  wrong 
and  homoeopathy  is  all  right,  but  a  man  must  be  an  idiot 
to  suppose  that  a  system  of  medicine  which  has  won  to 
itself  large  numbers  of  skilful  men  from  the  regular  pro- 
fession, and  secured  the  approval,  when  compared  di- 
rectly with  the  regular  practice,  of  as  intelligent  people 
as  can  be  found  in  this  or  any  other  country,  has  nothing 
of  good  in  it.  For  them — without  experiment,  without 
observation,  without  careful  study — to  call  homoeopathy 
a  system  of  unmitigated  quackery,  and  to  hold  those  in 
contempt  who  practise  and  patronize  it,  is  a  piece  of  the 
most  childish  arrogance.     This  is  neither  the  way  of 


Dr.   Benjamin  Rush  yones.  257 

true  science  nor  liberal  culture.  They  may  be  measur- 
ably certain  that  there  is  something  in  homoeopathy 
worthy,  not  only  of  their  examination,  but  of  incorpora- 
tion into  their  system  of  practice.  It  has  already  modi- 
fied their  practice  while  they  have  been  talking  and  act- 
ing against  it.  They  are  not  exhibiting  to-day  a  third  as 
much  medicine  as  they  did  before  homoeopathy  made  its 
appearance.  It  has  killed  the  old  system  of  large  dosing, 
forever.  This  is  a  fact ;  and  what  they  call  "  no  medi- 
cine at  all "  has  at  least  shown  itself  to  be  better  than 
too  miich  medicine,  even  when  administered  in  the  regu- 
lar way.  They  say  that  a  homoeopathic  dose  cannot 
affect  the  human  constitution,  in  any  appreciable  degree. 
A  million  men  and  women  stand  ready  to-day  to  swear 
that,  according  to  their  honest  belief  and  best  knowl- 
edge, they  have  themselves  been  sensibly  affected  by 
homoeopathic  doses,  and  that,  on  the  whole,  they  prefer 
homoeopathic  to  allopathic  practice  in  their  families, 
judging  from  a  long  series  of  results. 

Now,  what  is  the  regular  profession  going  to  do  with 
facts  like  these  ?  They  cannot  dismiss  them  with  a  con- 
temptuous paragraph,  and  a  wave  of  the  hand,  and 
maintain  their  reputation  as  candid  men.  If  they  are 
free  men,  and  not  under  bondage  to  the  most  contempti- 
ble old  fogyism  that  the  world  ever  gave  birth  to,  they 
will  act  as  free  men.  They  will  permit  no  man  to  limit 
their  field  of  experiment  and  inquiry,  and  allow  no 
society  or  clique  to  prevent  them  from  extending  medi- 


258         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

cal  science  over  all  the  facts  of  medical  science,  wherever 
they  may  find  them.  I  am  a  champion  of  no  one  of  the 
thousand  "pathies"  that  occupy  the  field  of  irregular 
practice,  and  I  have  alluded  to  two  of  them  only  because 
they  are  prominent.  I  speak  of  Dr.  Jones  simply  as  a 
searcher  after  truth ;  and  I  declare  my  belief  that  the 
profession  to  which  he  belongs  has  failed  to  keep  pace 
with  other  professions — that  medical  science  has  lagged 
behind  all  the  other  sciences  of  equal  importance  to 
mankind — simply  because  it  would  not  accept  truth 
when  it  has  been  associated  with  the  error  and  the  pre- 
tension that  is  so  apt  to  accompany  the  advent  of  truth 
in  every  field.  The  science  of  medicine  embraces,  or 
should  embrace,  all  the  facts  of  medicine,  and  when  he 
or  his  friends  proudly  decline  to  entertain  a  fact  because 
it  was  discovered  by  an  irregular  empiric,  they  are  not 
only  false  to  science  but  false  to  humanity. 

Dr.  Jones  cannot  help  but  notice  a  growing  tendency 
in  the  public  mind  to  break  away  from  the  regular  prac- 
tice, and  to  embrace  some  of  the  numberless  forms  of 
irregular  practice.  He  notices  this  with  pain,  and  so  do 
I,  because  I  know  that  if  the  regular  profession  were  to 
pursue  a  different  policy,  the  fact  would  be  otherwise. 
He  must  notice  with  peculiar  pain  that  this  defection  is 
not  confined  to  the  ignorant  and  the  superstitious,  and 
that,  more  and  more,  it  takes  from  him  the  intelligent 
and  the  learned.  Why  will  he  be  so  stupid  as  not  to 
see  that  this  waning  of  respect  for  the  regular  practice  is 


Dr.  Bejijamin  Rush  Jones.  259 

owing  to  the  bigotry  and  intolerance  of  the  regular  prac- 
titioners ?  He  assumes  to  be  the  sole  possessor  of  the 
medical  wisdom  of  the  world.  Every  man  who  does  not 
practise  in  his  way,  though  he  may  have  been  a  graduate 
of  a  regular  medical  college,  he  assumes  the  privilege  of 
condemning  as  a  quack  ;  and  he  denies  to  him  not  only 
professional  but  social  position.  He  places  all  matters 
of  social  and  professional  etiquette  before  the  simplest 
humanities,  and  intends  by  his  policy  to  coerce  the 
public  into  his  support.  The  rules  of  his  medical  asso- 
ciations are  intended  to  hold  their  members  to  the  regu- 
lar field,  to  compel  them  to  fight  all  irregular  practition- 
ers out  of  the  field,  and  to  force  the  public  into  the 
exclusive  support  of  the  regular  practice.  It  is  a  thor- 
ough despotism,  and  intended  to  be  so  ;  and  is  so  dis- 
cordant with  the  free  spirit  of  the  time  that  the  public 
rebel  and  many  are  driven  into  extremes  of  opposition. 
Does  he  ask  me  if  I  am  a  medical  "  Eclectic  ?  "  No  ; 
I  am  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  am  a  catholic,  with  every 
prejudice,  predilection,  and  sympathy  of  my  mind  cling- 
ing to  the  regular  practice.  I  have  a  contempt  which  I 
cannot  utter  for  all  these  "completed  systems"  of  ir- 
regular practice,  which  are  built  upon  some  newly  dis- 
covered or  newly  developed  fact  in  medicine.  I  have 
only  contempt  for  the  broad  claims  of  quackery  in  every 
field.  When  a  man  tells  me  that  the  regular  practice  is 
murder,  and  that  drugs  are  never  administered  in  allo- 
pathic doses  with  benefit,  I  know  simply  that  he  is  a 


26o         Cojicerning  the  Jones  Family. 

fool.  And  when  an  adherent  of  the  allopathic  school 
tells  me  that  such  and  such  things  cannot  be,  in  the 
range  of  irregular  practice,  which  I  know  have  been  and 
are,  I  know  he  is  a  fool. 

I  write  in  my  present  strain  to  him,  because  I  believe 
that  through  what  is  called  the  regular  practice  the  fu- 
ture substantial  advances  of  medicine  are  to  be  made. 
Medical  science  can  only  go  about  as  fast  as  the  regular 
profession  permits  it  to  go.  It  is  too  well  organized,  it 
has  too  many  schools,  it  has  too  much  power,  to  permit 
any  outside  organization  to  get  the  lead,  and  to  become 
the  standard  authority  of  the  world.  My  doctrine  is 
that  the  regular  profession  should  become  the  solvent  of 
all  the  systems,  and  not  the  uniform  and  bitter  opponent 
of  everything  that  claims  to  be  a  system.  They  should 
make  their  system  one  with  universal  science,  one  with 
humanity,  and  not  build  a  wall  around  it.  When  a  man 
gets  so  bigoted  that  he  can  say  that  a  thing  cannot  be 
true  because  it  is  not  according  to  his  system,  he  has  be- 
come too  narrow  for  the  intelligent  practice  of  any  pro- 
fession. 

The  church  is  getting  ahead  of  the  medical  profession 
very  decidedly.  It  is  but  a  few  years  ago  that  Christians 
of  different  sects  had  just  as  little  toleration  for  each 
other  as  the  different  sects  of  medical  men  have  now. 
There  was  one  of  these  sects  that  was  "  the  regular 
thing,"  and  those  who  departed  from  it  were  made  to 
suffer  socially.     It  was  in  this  country,  in  a  degree,  as  it 


Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  Jones.  261 

is  in  England  now.  There  is  the  established  church— 
the  recognized  church — and  all  the  Protestants  outside 
of  it  are  independents.  These  independents  are  looked 
down  upon  socially,  and  regarded  with  a  contempt  quite 
as  profound  as  that  which  the  medical  profession  feels 
for  "  quacks"  and  their  "  dupes  ;  "  yet  it  is  coming  to  be 
understood  in  England  that  the  substantial  Christian 
progress  of  the  time  is  being  made  by  the  despised  inde- 
pendents, and  it  is  felt  that  by  their  influence  they  are 
working  a  revolution  in  the  established  church  which 
will,  at  no  distant  day,  give  to  it  a  new  vitality  and  a 
fresh  impetus.  Dr.  Jones  may  fight  this  revolution  in 
medicine,  but  it  is  coming,  and  when  it  shall  come,  he 
will  find  that  what  he  calls  quackery  will  fall  before  it. 

He,  possibly,  supposes  that  there  are  no  intelligent 
and  scientific  men  engaged  in  irregular  medical  prac- 
tice. If  there  are  not,  it  is  the  fault  of  his  own  schools, 
for  they  have  been  educated  in  them  by  thousands  ;  and 
the  practical  point  at  which  I  aim  is  this  :  that  he  and 
they  shall  meet  as  scientific  men,  and  that  as  scientific 
men  he  and  they  shall  reveal  the  results  of  experiment 
and  inquiry  in  their  various  fields  of  observation.  I 
would  have  him  win  from  them  what  they  have  learned. 
I  would  have  him  and  them  do  this  in  behalf  of  medical 
science,  and  in  the  interest  of  humanity.  Until  they 
become  willing  to  do  this  they  must  occupy  the  position 
of  despots  and  bigots — a  position  which  no  profession, 
with  science  in  one  hand  and  humanity  in  the  other,  can 


262         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

afford  to  occupy.  At  present  they  are  creating  quack- 
cry  and  stimulating  quacks  at  a  rate  which  no  other 
policy  could  possibly  effect.  The  means  which  they 
and  their  professional  brethren  are  employing  to  keep 
the  medical  practice  of  the  country  in  their  hands,  are 
certainly  working  to  defeat  their  object.  They  must  be 
more  catholic  and  more  tolerant,  or  their  profession, 
and  every  human  being  interested  in  it,  must  suffer  a 
range  of  evil  consequences  which  I  cannot  measure- 
The  position  which  they  assume  of  holding  a  monopoly 
•of  all  the  medical  wisdom,  all  the  medical  science,  ali 
the  power  of  intelligent  observation  of  disease,  is  a 
standing  insult  to  the  age,  and  is  certain  to  be  pun- 
ished. 

I  am  aware  that  I  am  quite  likely  to  be  misunderstood 
and  misconstrued  by  Dr.  Jones,  and  by  those  of  his 
professional  brethren  who  may  read  this  paper.  They 
have  been  so  much  in  the  habit  of  calling  all  irregular 
practitioners  quacks  and  charlatans  and  mountebanks — 
of  looking  upon  them  all  as  either  ignorant  or  knavish, 
or  both  together,  that  they  will  be  quite  apt  to  charge 
me  with  favoring  charlatanry  and  quackery.  I  ask  them 
to  associate  with  no  knave  or  ignorant  pretender.  No 
man  can  more  heartily  despise  a  pretender  in  medicine 
than  I  do,  either  in  or  out  of  the  regular  profession  ;  and 
I  am  sure  that  the  question  is  yet  to  be  decided  as  to 
which  side  holds  the  preponderance  of  ignorance  and 
pretension.     As  between  licensed  and  unlicensed  igno-- 


Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  Jones.  263 

ranee  and  pretension,  I  have  no  choice.  I  simply  ask 
the  profession  to  admit  the  fact  that  there  are  just  as 
good,  true,  scientific,  honorable,  and  able  men  outside  of 
the  regular  profession  as  there  are  in  it ;  that  all  improve- 
ments in  medicine  must  come  through  empiricism ;  that 
medical  science  is  one  in  its  interests,  aims,  and  ends  ; 
and  that  the  people  have  a  right  to  demand  that  the 
profession  which  has  its  most  precious  interests  in 
charge  shall  not  place  before  those  interests  its  own  par- 
tisan purposes  and  prejudices.  I  wish  Dr.  Jones  to  see 
how  utterly  unworthy  of  him,  personally,  his  professional 
bigotry  is,  and  to  induce  him  to  do  for  his  profession 
what  he  is  so  ready  to  do  in  all  the  popular  fields  of  re- 
form. 


DIOGENES  JONES. 

CONCERNING  HIS  DISPOSITION  TO  A  VOID  SOCIETY. 

I  SOMETIMES  think  that  I  am  the  only  person  who 
understands  and  appreciates  this  member  of  the 
Jones  family ;  and  the  fact  I  take  to  be  flattering  to  my 
discrimination,  for  all  the  fools  believe  him  to  be  a  fool. 
There  are  comparatively  few  who  know  that  behind  his 
impassive  spectacles  there  are  eyes  full  of  kindliness 
and  intelligence,  and  that  his  shy  manner  and  reticent 
mood  cover  a  heart  that  longs  for  love  and  a  wealth  of 
conscious  intellectual  power  that  would  rejoice  in  recog- 
nition. Few  care  to  study  him,  but  everybody  wonders 
why  he  shuns  society.  Few  go  toward  him,  because  he 
goes  toward  nobody.  I  never  should  have  known  him 
if  I  had  not,  by  pure  force  of  will,  penetrated  the  armor 
of  cool  indifference  in  which  he  has  encased  himself.  I 
v/as  determined  to  find  him,  and  I  found  him.  I  was 
not  surprised  to  discover  in  him  the  average  amount  of 
humanity  in  its  common  powers  and  properties,  and 
more  than  the  average  amount  of  sensitiveness  and  gen- 
tleness.    So  soon  as  he  saw  that  1  understood  him,  he 


Diogenes  Jones.  265 

Surrendered  himself  to  me  gladly,  and  wc  held  commu- 
nion with  one  another,  heart  to  heart. 

The  first  cause  that  operated  to  make  him  a  solitary 
man  was  a  sense  of  his  incongruity  with  the  elements  of 
society,  or  with  the  elements  of  such  society  as  were 
around  him.  He  looked  upon  the  young,  and  saw  them 
absorbed  by  frivolities  that  had  no  charm  for  him — en- 
gaged in  pursuits  which  did  not  interest  him.  There 
was  but  little  animal  life  in  him,  and  no  overflow  of  ani- 
mal spirits — so  he  had  none  of  the  spirit  of  play ;  and 
he  could  take  no  pleasure  in  the  insignificant  things 
with  which  the  spirit  of  play  interested  itself.  When- 
ever he  was  thrown  among  those  of  his  own  years,  he 
entered  scenes  that  had  no  meaning  to  him,  so  that  be 
was  always  oppressed  with  the  feeling  that  he  was  out 
of  place.  He  knew  that  his  companions  interfered  with 
his  pleasure,  and  naturally  thought  that  he  interfered 
with  theirs,  forgetting  that  they  were  thoughtless  while 
he  was  thoughtful. 

This  consciousness  of  incongruity  could  not  long  be 
entertained  in  his  sensitive  nature  without  very  serious 
self-questionings.  He  began  to  ask  himself  why  it  waa 
that  he  was  an  exception  to  the  rule  that  prevailed 
around  him ;  and  the  more  he  questioned  himself,  the 
more  sensitive  he  became,  until  there  was  not  a  feature 
of  his  face,  or  a  part  of  his  frame,  or  a  peculiarity  of  his 
speech  and  personal  bearing,  that  was  not  inquired  of 
concerning  the  matter.     The  result  was  an  impulse  tc 


266         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

hide  himself  from  observation,  and  great  reluctance  to 
enter  the  society  to  which  his  life  naturally  introduced 
him.  His  consciousness  that  there  was  something  pe- 
culiar in  his  temperament  was  a  hinderance  to  him — it 
made  him  awkward  and  stiff.  While  he  felt  himself  to 
be  the  possessor  of  more  brains  and  more  knowledge 
than  the  most  of  the  young  men  around  him,  he  des- 
paired of  appearing  to  know  anything.  He  had  not  the 
secret  of  self-possession  and  confident  bearing.  Many 
were  the  struggles  with  himself,  but  at  length  he  became 
habitually  a  solitary  man.  He  lost  the  small  measure 
of  confidence  which  nature  originally  gave  him,  lost  his 
familiarity  with  the  forms  of  social  intercourse — almost 
lost  himself.  He  could  not  bear  to  be  looked  at  or 
spoken  to.  He  retired  into  himself,  and  sought  in  self- 
communion  or  in  studious  pursuits  for  the  satisfaction 
which  his  nature  craved. 

I  have  already  suggested  the  character  of  that  poverty 
of  constitution  which  has  made  him  what  he  is.  He  is 
not  a  thoroughly  healthy  man.  Either  he  is  very  weak 
naturally,  with  no  overflow  of  animal  life,  or,  by  heavy 
draughts  upon  his  nervous  system,  he  has  expended 
that  life.  Work,  or  study,  or  both  together,  have  ex- 
hausted his  stock  of  vitality,  so  that  he  has  only  just 
enough  for  the  necessary  uses  of  life.  Until  men  and 
women  rise  to  a  degree  of  cultivation  which  few  reach, 
it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  social  life  is  made  up  of  or  is 
carried  on  by  the  aggregate  overflow  of  the  animal  life 


Diogenes  Jones.  267 

of  society.  It  may  be  a  humiliating  consideration,  but 
it  is  true,  that  where  there  is  none  of  the  spirit  of  play 
there  is  no  social  life  that  is  worth  the  name.  Youth  is 
generally  social  because  it  is  playful ;  and,  as  youth 
goes  on  to  middle  life  and  old  age,  it  generally  becomes 
less  social  because  it  becomes  less  playful.  Playfulness 
is  the  offspring  of  animal  spirits.  There  are  some  men 
and  women  who  bubble  throughout  their  whole  lives 
with  this  overflow,  and  are  always  cheerful  and  charm- 
ing companions.  There  are  others  who  either  never 
have  it,  or  who  lose  it  by  expenditure  of  work  or  study, 
and  who,  as  a  consequence,  become  taciturn  and  unso- 
cial. Lambs  in  a  pasture  will  run  races  in  delightful 
groups,  and  frolic  by  the  hour  j  but  the  dams  that  nurse 
them,  and  seek  all  day  among  the  rocks  for  food,  mani- 
fest no  sympathy  with  them.  In  a  healthy  constitution, 
put  to  healthy  work,  there  seems  to  be  a  stock  of  animal 
life  and  spirits  sufficient  for  the  individual,  and  a  super- 
abundant amount  which  is  intended  for  social  purposes. 
We  may  look  the  world  over,  and  we  shall  find  that  all 
men  and  all  races  of  men  in  whom  this  overflow  of  ani- 
mal life  is  characteristic  are  social ;  and  that  all  men 
and  races  of  men  not  characterized  by  this  overflow  are 
unsocial. 

Overflowing  animal  spirits  form  the  stream  on  which 
the  social  life  of  the  world  floats.  If  other  evidences  of 
the  fact  were  needed  than  that  which  lies  upon  the  sur- 
face, it  might  be  found  in  the  efforts  to  produce  an  arti- 


268         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

ficial  overflow  at  convivial  parties.  A  company  of 
weary  men  sit  down  and  pass  the  evening  together  over 
a  supper.  They  come  together  for  the  simple  purpose 
of  enjoying  a  gay  and  social  time.  They  know  very  well 
that,  independent  of  the  contents  of  certain  bottles,  they 
have  no  power  of  social  enjoyment  of  the  kind  they  seek. 
They  wish  to  bring  back  the  hilarity  of  youth,  the  care- 
lessness of  youth,  the  overflowing  joyousness  of  youth  ; 
but  this  they  cannot  do,  because  their  animal  life  is  ex- 
pended. So  they  get  up  the  best  imitation  they  can  of 
the  departed  motive  power,  and  a  very  sorry  one  it  is. 
When  the  artificial  stimulant  has  worked  its  work,  the 
company  is  social  enough,  and  hilarious  enough,  after  a 
fashion,  but  the  fashion  is  a  disastrous  one.  It  will  an- 
swer, however,  as  a  proof  of  the  proposition  that  in  over- 
flowing animal  spirits  is  to  be  found  the  medium  of  so- 
cial intercourse — the  menstruum  of  all  social  materials. 
Even  when  social  life  starts  from  a  higher  source — from 
the  overflow  of  intellectual  life — it  is  greatly  assisted  by 
animal  spirits,  and  those  men  and  women  in  whom 
there  is  an  overflow  of  both  animal  and  intellectual  life 
are,  socially,  the  most  valuable  and  attractive  that  the 
world  contains. 

Mr.  Diogenes  Jones  must  have  noticed  how  much  ani- 
mal spirits  will  do  in  making  a  man — very  inconsequen- 
tial otherwise — socially  valuable.  He  must  remember 
young  men  and  women  with  ordinary  powers  of  intellect, 
and  not  more  than  ordinary   personal  attractions,  who 


Diogenes  Jones.  269 

were  deemed  the  life  of  the  party  they  entered,  simply 
because  they  had  an  overflow  of  animal  spirits.  If  they 
were  awkward,  nobody  minded  it — least  of  all  did  they 
care  for  it.  They  brought  society  a  vessel  full  of  life, 
and  society  was  grateful  for  it.  Mr.  Jones  took  into  this 
same  society,  perhaps,  a  mind  well  stored  with  learning, 
and  natural  gifts  superior  to  any,  yet  the  empty  pates 
amused  everybody  and  furnished  the  means  and  me- 
dium of  social  communion  while  he  sat  with  his  tongue 
tied,  or  retired  in  disgust.  Now  let  him  imagine  him- 
self to  be  possessed  of  the  abounding  animal  life  which 
distinguishes  some  of  his  acquaintances,  united  with  the 
intellectual  power  and  culture  which  distinguish  himself, 
and  it  will  be  easy  to  see  that  nothing  could  restrain 
him  from  society.  The  overflowing  man  must  play,  and 
he  will  always  seek  somebody  to  play  with.  If  he  does 
not  understand  the  conventionalities  of  society  and  the 
forms  and  the  manners  of  social  intercourse,  he  will 
good-naturedly  blunder  over  them.  He  will  be  social, 
because  he  must  expend  that  which  is  in  him  in  play. 

I  am  aware  that  Mr.  Jones'  case  is  not  like  all  those 
which  result  in  self-exclusion  from  society,  but  I  believe 
that  no  case  of  such  self-exclusion  can  be  found  in  any 
man  who  possesses  a  healthy  overflow  of  animal  spirits. 
I  find  the  disposition  to  shun  society  exists  very  widely 
among  students  and  studious  men.  I  believe  it  is  the 
truth,  that  most  authors  and  writers  avoid  society,  or 
feel  decidedly  disinclined  to  it.     Men  who  thus  confine 


270         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

themselves  within  doors,  and  exhaust  their  nervous  en- 
ergy in  thought  and  composition,  and  with  no  vigor  from 
the  open  air,  are  necessarily  without  an  overflow  of  ani- 
mal spirits  ;  and  they  will  find  themselves  disinclined  to 
society  exactly  in  proportion  to  their  sense  of  exhaust- 
ion. Not  unfrequently  young  women  who  have  been  dis- 
tinguished for  their  love  of  society  and  their  adaptedness 
to  it,  lose  both  on  becoming  mothers  of  families,  and 
never  enter  society  again  as  active  members.  So  it 
seems  that  just  as  soon  as  the  animal  life  sinks  below  a 
certain  level,  the  disposition  to  play  naturally  ceases,  and 
the  motive  to  enter  society  dies. 

I  am  now  asked  for  the  remedy.  I  am  asked  a  hard 
question,  and  yet  I  believe  there  is  an  answer  to  it, 
though  a  fresh  and  overflowing  supply  of  animal  life  is 
not  to  be  had  by  the  asking.  Undoubtedly  something 
can  be  done  by  attending  to  the  conditions  of  a  vigorous 
animal  life.  Undoubtedly  a  life  in  the  open  air  among 
men  would  work  a  great  change  in  Mr.  Jones,  but  cir- 
cumstances will  not  permit  this,  perhaps,  and  he  seeks 
for  the  next  best  course. 

I  have  said  that  overflowing  animal  spirits  form  the 
stream  on  which  the  social  life  of  the  world  floats.  To 
extend  the  figure,  I  may  say  that  on  this  stream  some 
row  while  others  ride,  and  the  relative  proportion  of 
rowers  and  riders  does  not  vary  essentially  from  that 
which  prevails  on  more  material  streams.  The  rowers 
are  in  the  minority — the  riders  are  in  the  majority,  and 


Diogenes  Jones.  271 

if  he  cannot  row  he  must  be  content  to  ride,  for  it  is  es- 
sential to  his  spiritual  health  that  he  enjoy  the  air  and 
sunlight  and  change  which  only  the  passengers  upon 
this  stream  can  win.  If  he  possesses  no  superabund- 
ance of  animal  life,  he  must  be  content  to  breathe  the 
atmosphere  furnished  by  others.  He  may  not  be  much 
interested  in  general  society,  and  society  may  not  be 
much  interested  in  him  at  first,  but  I  am  sure  that  if  he 
enters  it  and  remains  in  it,  he  will  not  fail  to  discover 
points  of  sympathy  between  himself  and  others  from 
which  refreshing  and  enriching  influences  will  be  re- 
ceived by  him.  Society  will  take  him  away  from  his 
books  and  break  up  his  reveries,  and  that  is  precisely 
what  is  needed.  He  needs  to  be  drawn  out  from  him- 
self, and  made  to  contribute  something  to  the  life  and 
wealth  of  others. 

If  directly  entering  general  society  seems  too  difficult 
or  too  distasteful,  there  are  various  indirect  methods  of 
entering  it  which  are  entirely  practicable,  and  which 
need  not  be  disagreeable.  Let  him  enter  some  field  of 
charitable  effort  or  public  enterprise.  Whenever  a  man 
undertakes  any  effort  for  the  good  of  the  public,  whether 
in  the  broad  field  of  Christian  charity,  or  the  equally 
broad  field  of  public  improvement,  he  at  once  comes 
into  sympathy  with  a  certain  number  of  men  and  women 
who  give  him  a  cordial  welcome.  It  is  only  a  point  of 
sympathy  that  is  needed  to  make  him  feel  at  home  in 
society.     Society  may  be  very  attractive  to  him,  though 


2/2  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

he  has  but  Uttle  power  to  contribute  to  its  life,  provided 
only  that  he  finds  in  it  those  with  whom  he  has  been 
thrown  into  sympathy.  Let  him  think  of  the  effect  upon 
his  mind  of  meeting  at  the  bedside  of  some  sad  sufferer, 
or  in  some  hovel  of  the  poor,  a  man  on  the  same  errand 
of  mercy  that  took  him  there.  He  knows  that  he  would 
feel  immediately  the  formation  of  a  tie  of  sympathy  be- 
tween himself  and  this  man — would  feel  that  he  had 
reached  his  heart,  that  the  latter  had  found  his,  and  that 
thenceforward  they  could  meet  with  mutual  esteem. 
Think  of  the  effect  of  laboring  side  by  side  with  men 
and  women  in  any  work  of  Christian  reform,  or  public 
education,  or  literary  culture.  All  work  of  this  charac- 
ter, pursued  in  the  company  of  others,  establishes  sym- 
pathy between  the  co-workers,  and  he  has  only  to  engage 
in  it  to  weave  around  himself  a  net  of  social  attractions 
that  must  gradually  draw  him  out  from  himself. 

He  must  contrive  some  scheme  for  meeting  society 
half-way.  He  is  unlike  most  men  who  shun  society, 
if  he  does  not  feel  that  it  does  not  quite  do  its  duty  to 
him  in  not  coming  after  him.  He  retires  into  himself, 
he  takes  no  pains  to  show  that  he  possesses  the  slightest 
social  value,  he  does  not  even  exhibit  that  interest  in 
humanity  generally,  or  in  the  community  in  which  he 
lives,  that  leads  him  to  efforts  on  their  behalf,  yet,  some- 
how, he  feels  that  society  ought  to  find  him  out,  and 
make  itself  agreeable  and  valuable  to  him.  He  may 
rest  assured  that  society  will  never  do  any  such  thing. 


Diogenes  Jones.  273 

I  know  that  he  has  no  native  impulse  to  social  commu- 
nion ;  that  the  spirit  of  play  about  which  I  have  talked 
is  gone  out  of  him,  even  if  he  has  ever  possessed  it ;  but 
that  which  most  men  do  by  impulse  or  natural  desire, 
he  must  do  by  direct  purpose,  and  as  a  matter  of  duty. 
And  he  must  do  this  at  once.  The  penalty  of  failure  is 
the  gradual  dwarfing  of  himself  and  the  sacrifice  of  all 
power  to  influence  others.  He  has  a  laudable  desire  to 
be  something  and  to  do  something  in  the  world,  and 
knows  that  he  has  within  him  the  ability  necessary  to 
accomplish  his  purposes,  but  without  social  sympathy 
he  will  never  know  what  to  do  or  how  to  do  for  the 
world,  and  the  world  will  find  it  impossible  to  under- 
stand and  receive  him. 

12* 


SAUL   M.   JONES. 

CONCERNING  HIS  HABIT  OF  LOOKING    UPON   THE 
DARK  SIDE   OF   THINGS. 

I  SUPPOSE  Mr.  Saul  M.  Jones  imagines  that  I  am 
about  to  endeavor  to  prove  to  him  that  there  is  no 
dark  side  to  the  things  of  this  life,  or  none  worth  his  at- 
tention. He  is  mistaken.  There  is  a  dark  side  to  every 
man's  life,  and  to  the  world's  life,  which  I  do  not  think  it 
either  possible  or  desirable  to  ignore — a  dark  side,  that 
is  legitimately  the  subject  of  melancholy  contemplation. 
We  live  in  a  world  of  want  and  disease,  of  sin  and  sor- 
row, of  disaster  and  death.  Our  souls,  that  think  and 
feel,  that  fear  and  hope,  that  despair  and  aspire,  are  as- 
sociated with  bodies  which  are  subject  to  debasing  appe- 
tites, to  derangement,  to  decay,  to  a  thousand  modes  of 
suffering  incident  to  animal  life.  No  mind  of  ordinary 
sensibility  can  look  upon,  or  ought  to  look  upon,  the 
evils  which  throng  the  path  of  humanity  without  deep 
sadness.  No  man  of  humane  instincts  can  realize,  even 
in  an  imperfect  and  faint  degree,  how  the  earth  seethes 
with  corruption,  and  moral  evil  vies  with  physical  disor- 


Saul  M.  Jones.  275 

ganization  and  decay  in  the  work  of  darkness  and  de- 
struction, without  emotions  of  mingled  sorrow  and  horror 
— emotions  that  cannot  be  relieved  by  the  encouraging 
reflection  that  the  future  promises  an  early  dissipation 
of  the  cloud  that  overshadows  the  world. 

There  are  several  reasons,  however,  why  neither  he 
nor  any  person  should  dwell  constantly  upon  the  evil 
that  is  in  the  world.  The  principal  one  is  that  no  one 
can  regard  it  perpetually,  with  anything  like  a  realizing 
comprehension  of  that  which  he  contemplates,  without 
morbid  depression  or  absolute  insanity.  A  man's  duty 
to  humanity,  no  less  than  his  duty  to  himself,  demands 
that  he  shall  not  depress  his  vital  tone  and  weaken  his 
courage  by  the  contemplation  of  evils  for  which  he  is  not 
responsible,  and  for  the  cure  or  relief  of  which  he  needs 
all  the  strength  he  possesses,  or  will  find  it  possible  to 
win.  I  suppose  the  angels  of  heaven,  with  their  quick 
sympathies,  might  make  themselves  most  unhappy  over 
the  woes  of  the  world,  and  fill  their  holy  dwelling-place 
with  lamentations,  but  I  do  not  believe  they  do,  or  that 
they  ought  to.  The  woes  of  the  world  are  not  put  upon 
one  man's  shoulders,  and  though  we  may  feel  them 
keenly,  we  have  no  moral  right  to  permit  them  to  affect 
us  further  than  to  make  our  hearts  tender  in  sympathy, 
and  our  hands  active  in  ministry.  If  dwelling  upon  the 
woes  of  others  had  power  in  it  to  do  them  good,  there 
would  be  excuse  for  it,  but  it  is  the  idlest  of  all  painful 
indulgences.     No  one  is  benefited  by  it,  while  one's  own 


2/6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

misery,  thus  awakened,  is  added  to  that  which  awakes 
it,  and  the  world  is  only  the  more  miserable  for  his  mis- 
ery. Thus  his  dejection  would  not  only  be  harmful  to 
himself,  but  useless  to  the  world.  It  would  be  a  gratui- 
tous addition  to  the  aggregate  of  human  woe,  and  would 
widen  the  field  of  misery  for  other  eyes. 

But  these  remarks  have  comparatively  little  practical 
application  to  Mr.  Jones,  or  to  others  prone,  like  him,  to 
look  on  the  dark  side  of  things.  The  men  and  women 
are  few  who  are  permanently  depressed  by  the  habitual 
contemplation  of  woes  that  do  not  personally  concern 
themselves.  I  have  heard  of  a  person  driven  hopelessly 
insane  by  a  contemplation  of  the  destiny  of  wicked  men, 
and  of  others  whose  horror  over  human  condition  has 
plunged  them  into  atheism,  or  some  other  dark  form  of 
unbelief;  but  these  are  rare  cases.  Almost  all  cases  of 
permanent  dejection,  and  of  habitual  refuge  in  shadows, 
are  the  result  of  personal  trials,  of  personal  peculiarities. 
Various  causes  have  contributed  to  make  Mr.  Jones  a 
dejected  man.  I  think  there  is  a  natural  lack  of  hope- 
fulness in  his  constitution.  There  are  great  differences 
among  men  in  this  matter.  Some,  with  naturally  hope- 
ful spirits,  live  through  a  hard  life,  and  see  many  bitter 
days,  yet  preserve  their  buoyancy  and  their  hopefulness 
to  the  last.  Others,  with  a  comparatively  easy  life  and 
surrounded  by  pleasant  circumstances,  will  grow  sadder 
and  sadder  until  they  sink  into  the  grave.  Natural  tem- 
perament  is   all-powerful   to   make    some   desponding 


Saul  M.  Jones.  277 

under  all  circumstances,  and  others  cheerful  under  any 
circumstances.  Something  of  Mr.  Jones'  condition  is 
due,  I  do  not  doubt,  to  this  native  deficiency,  though  I 
do  not  think  this  deficiency  so  great  as  to  be  the  respon- 
sible cause  of  his  calamity. 

Disease  is  not  unfrequently  the  cause  of  much  of  the 
permanent  dejection  that  afflicts  mankind.  Hypochon- 
dria is  not  uncommon,  and  this  is  a  genuine  disease  that 
comes  under  the  cognizance  and  treatment  of  the  physi- 
cians as  legitimately  as  rheumatism  or  any  other  dis- 
ease. And  there  may  exist  a  general  depression  of  the 
vital  energies  in  consequence  of  age,  or  the  disease  of 
some  of  the  organs  concerned  in  digestion  whose  legiti- 
mate result  is  depression  of  spirits.  I  cannot  tell  how 
much  this  man's  depression  is  attributable  to  causes  of 
this  character,  but  I  do  not  doubt  that  disease  has  its 
place  among  the  causes.  Still,  neither  natural  tempera- 
ment nor  disease  has  worked  this  work  alone.  They 
have  done  something  in  furnishing  favorable  conditions 
for  the  operations  of  other  causes,  without  being  very 
active  themselves.  I  have  never  been  able  to  find  in 
his  lack  of  hopefulness,  or  in  any  disease  that  has  been 
permanently  upon  him,  the  reason  for  that  disposition 
to  look  upon  the  dark  side  of  things  which  has  become 
the  habit  of  his  life.  He  is  probably  not  aware  of  this 
habit.  He  is  probably  not  aware  that  he  never  utters  a 
hearty  laugh,  that  he  never  confesses  to  a  moment  of 
genuine  enjoyment,  that  he  is  never  willing  to  acknowl- 


278         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

edge  that  there  is  anything  encouraging  in  his  life  and 
lot,  that  he  has  for  years  persistently  believed  his  health 
to  be  in  a  failing  condition,  that  he  utterly  refuses  to 
admit  that  there  is  any  palliation  of  his  misery  in  any 
event  that  affects  him.  His  friends  are  aware  that  he  is 
in  very  comfortable  circumstances,  that  not  a  want  is 
unsupplied,  that  love  surrounds  him  with  its  tireless 
ministries,  and  that,  somehow,  life  has  many  charms  for 
him  ;  but  he  wonders  at  their  perverseness,  or  attempts 
in  various  ways  to  convince  them  of  their  mistake. 

I  have  spoken  of  his  dejection  as  a  habit,  and  I  think 
it  is  one  which  a  sufficient  power  and  effort  of  will  can 
break  up.  I  do  not  know,  indeed,  but  he  has  lost  this 
power  of  will  in  a  measure,  but  I  cannot  think  that  it  is 
entirely  gone.  He  seems  to  have  plenty  of  reason  and  a 
sufficiency  of  will  with  relation  to  other  subjects  ;  and 
if  he  could  have  the  disposition  to  apply  both  to  this,  he 
could  break  up  his  unhappy  habit,  I  do  not  doubt.  He 
has  a  habit  of  watchfulness  against  evil,  as  if  he  did  not 
intend  that  Providence  should  ever  catch  him  napping. 
He  guards  himself  equally  against  joy,  as  if  afraid  of 
being  happier  than  he  has  any  right  to  be.  For  many 
years,  he  has  kept  a  lookout  for  death,  determined  not 
to  be  taken  when  off  guard.  This  watchfulness  against 
evil  and  against  joy  has  been  maintained  till  it  has  be- 
come the  habit  of  his  life,  and  made  him  a  miserable 
slave. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  deny  that  he  has  suffered  se- 


Sattl  M.  Jones.  279 

verely  by  sickness,  by  early  struggles  with  poverty,  and 
by  the  loss  of  those  who  were  near  and  dear  to  him. 
Indeed,  the  blows  of  Providence  have  been  neither  few 
nor  lightly  inflicted  ;  but  they  have  been  blows  for  which 
a  kind  Father  has  provided  abundant  balm.  No  shame 
has  befallen  him  ;  no  dishonor  has  come  to  him  ;  noth- 
ing has  happened  to  him  strange  to  the  lot  of  the  hun- 
dreds of  cheerful  men  whom  he  meets.  I  do  not  doubt 
that  these  blows  bent  him  as  grief  always  bends,  but 
there  was  no  sufficient  reason  for  their  breaking  him. 
They  were  not  the  expression  of  infinite  displeasure, 
and  were  not  intended  to  fill  his  life  with  gloom.  Nay, 
he  professes  to  believe  that  all  these  precious  lost  ones 
of  his  are  in  heaven,  and  that  soon  he  shall  meet  them 
there.  I  think  he  is  thoroughly  honest  in  his  belief,  and 
that  even  his  griefs  cannot  be  held  accountable  for  his 
habit  of  looking  upon  the  dark  side  of  things,  and  his 
persistent  discontent. 

I  look  farther  back  than  grief  for  the  causes  of  his 
sadness  and  deeper  than  disease.  I  believe  that  the 
real  and  responsible  cause  of  his  dejection  is  the  relig- 
ious training  of  his  early  life,  and  the  ideas  which  he 
now  entertains  of  God  and  of  duty.  God  has  never 
been  to  him  an  infinitely  affectionate  Father,  to  whom 
he  has  been  willing  to  give  himself  up  in  perfect  trust. 
I  do  not  question  the  honesty  of  his  reverence  for  Him, 
or  the  purity  of  his  worship  of  Him,  but  his  fear  of  Him 
is  of  such  a  nature  that  he  seems  always  afraid  that  He 


28o         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

will  play  him  some  trick — that  He  will  call  for  him  be- 
fore he  is  ready,  or  that  He  only  bears  a  joy  to  his  lips 
in  order,  for  some  disciplinary  purpose,  to  dash  it  away. 
He  does  not,  like  a  child,  trust  Him — give  himself  and 
all  his  hopes  and  all  his  life  up  to  Him.  He  has  no  ease 
in  Him — no  peace  in  Him.  He  is  on  the  constant  watch 
for  himself,  seeking  to  fathom  or  foresee  His  designs 
concerning  himself,  and  bearing,  with  his  poor,  weak 
hands,  the  burden  which  only  He  can  carry  without  toil. 
God,  the  judge — God,  the  ruler — God,  the  providential 
dispenser — that  is  his  God ;  but  God,  the  everlasting 
Father,  full  of  all  tender  pity  and  compassion,  wooing 
him  to  His  arms,  asking  him  to  repose  upon  His  bosom 
and  give  up  to  Him  all  his  griefs,  and  trust  Him  for  all 
the  future,  is  a  strange  God  to  him.  Ah  !  I  am  more 
sorry  for  him  in  this  great  mistake  and  misfortune  than 
my  words  can  tell. 

I  think  he  has  always  felt  that  it  is  wrong  to  be  cheer- 
ful. His  religion  has  been  a  joyless  one.  He  received 
in  early  life,  I  cannot  doubt,  the  impression  that  no  per- 
son realizing  the  brevity  of  life,  the  tremendous  realities 
of  eternity,  the  consequences  of  sin  and  the  necessity 
for  constant  preparation  for  death,  and  the  readiness  for 
every  affliction,  could  possibly  be  cheerful.  Naturally 
reverent  and  constitutionally  timid,  this  kind  of  teach- 
ing planted  itself  so  deeply  in  his  spirit  that  a  better 
doctrine,  assisted  by  his  own  reason,  has  never  uprooted 
it.     To  him  the  most  cheerful  peal  of  bells  comes  only 


Saul  M.  Jones.  281 

with  suggestions  of  the  grave,  and  the  touch  of  a  baby's 
hand  upon  his  cheek  reminds  him  only  of  its  frailty  and 
its  doom.  The  earth  has  been  hterally  a  vale  of  tears 
to  him.  As  he  has  seen  the  young  overflowing  with  life 
and  joy,  and  dancing  along  a  flowery  pathway,  he  has 
sighed  over  them  with  an  ineffable  pity.  He  has  never 
dared  to  set  his  affections  upon  anything  for  fear  that  it 
would  be  taken  away  from  him,  or  that,  in  some  way,  it 
would  become  a  curse  to  him.  He  has  looked  upon  life 
simply  as  a  period  of  discipline  preparatory  to  a  bettei 
life,  whose  joyfulness  must  necessarily  be  in  the  ratio  of 
the  joylessness  of  that  which  precedes  it  Life  has  ap- 
peared to  him  to  be  only  a  preparation  for  death,  and 
religion  has  been  only  something  to  die  by. 

Now  I  am  very  much  mistaken  if  it  be  not  one  of 
the  special  offices  of  Christianity  to  release  those  who, 
through  fear  of  death,  have  all  their  life  been  subject  to 
bondage — to  make  the  future  so  clear  and  attractive 
that  it  shall  fill  the  present  with  joyful  content.  I  know 
that  we  are  directed  to  be  ready  for  death  when  it  shall 
come  ;  but  how  can  a  man  be  readier  than  when  en- 
gaged actively  in  pushing  on  the  great  work  of  the 
world,  and  enjoying  all  the  satisfaction  that  must  natur- 
ally flow  from  the  consciousness  of  a  future  forever  se- 
cure ? 

If  his  idea  and  his  policy  were  to  become  prevalent  in 
the  world,  the  world  would  certainly  become  more 
thoroughly  a  vale  of  tears  than  it  ever  has  been — more 


282         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

than  he  imagines  it  to  be.  Such  prevalence  would  be 
universal  paralysis.  God  is  not  interested  exclusively, 
I  imagine,  with  the  small  concerns  of  individuals  like 
himself.  He  watches  the  life  of  nations  and  the  rise 
and  growth  of  civilization.  One  generation  lays  the  cor- 
ner-stone of  the  state,  and  a  hundred  generations  rear 
the  superstructure,  and  numberless  lives  are  swallowed 
up  in  the  process.  Lives  and  destinies  overlap  each 
other,  and  one  continues  what  another  begins.  The 
thread  of  silk  is  not  cut  off  because  a  single  cocoon  is 
exhausted.  The  single  cocoon  is  not  missed,  and  if  it 
were,  there  are  a  hundred  to  take  its  place.  Men  do 
not  live  to  themselves  alone — do  not  live  with  reference 
alone  to  that  which,  in  the  providence  of  God,  may  per- 
sonally befall  them.  There  is  a  family,  there  is  a  pos- 
terity, there  is  a  country,  there  is  a  world  to  live  for ; 
there  are  great  enterprises  to  be  engaged  in  which  con- 
sult no  period  of  suspension  short  of  the  national  death 
or  the  final  consummation  of  all  things. 

What  headway  does  Mr.  Jones  think  would  be  made 
in  the  world's  educational  and  reformatory  work  by  men 
who,  like  him,  think  there  is  not  much  use  in  undertak- 
ing anything  because  death  is  so  very  near  ?  Let  him 
judge  for  himself.  Is  he  an  active  man  in  any  of  the 
great  Christian  and  humane  movements  of  the  time  ? 
Does  he  ever  dream  of  putting  his  shoulder  to  the  wheel 
of  progress  ?  No.  He  is  the  subject  of  mental  and 
spiritual  paralysis ;  and  if  the  world  were  made  up  of 


Sattl  M.   Jones.  283 

such  as  he,  it  would  come  to  a  dead  halt.  He  has  lived 
in  his  old  house  until  it  is  tumbling  down  about  his 
head,  because  it  has  seemed  as  if  anything  like  perma- 
nent repair  of  it  would  tempt  Providence  to  take  him 
away  from  it  altogether.  He  could  tear  the  old  house 
down  and  build  anew,  but  life  seems  so  short  and  deai'a 
SD  near,  that  even  the  suggestion  of  such  an  enterprise 
has  appeared  impious.  He  has  thought  only  of  him 
who  proposed  to  pull  down  his  bams  and  build  greater, 
and  of  the  end  that  came  before  the  barns  were  begun. 
The  new  garments  which  he  puts  on  are  adopted  with 
the  sad  reflection  that  he  shall  probably  never  live  to 
wear  them  out,  and  every  chastened  pleasure  which  he 
puts  fearfully  to  his  lips  is  loaded  with  the  thought  that 
he  has  possibly  tasted  it  for  the  last  time. 

What  kind  of  a  Christianity  does  he  think  this  is  to 
commend  to  a  careless  world  ?  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion as  to  the  relative  comfort  and  happiness  of  the 
worldling  and  himself.  The  careless  worldling,  so  that 
he  has  no  vice  that  burns  his  conscience,  is  a  happier 
man  than  Mr.  Jones  ;  and  if  he  be  a  man  of  active, 
benevolent  impulses,  he  is  a  more  useful  member  of 
society.  This  continual  thoughtfulness  touching  him- 
self, this  constant  carefulness  of  himself,  this  perpetual 
watching  of  events  with  relation  to  their  bearing  upon 
himself,  cannot  fail  to  make  him  selfish,  or  rather  can- 
not fail  to  shut  out  the  thought  of  others  and  of  the 
great  interest  of  the  world  at  large. 


284         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

I  count  that  man  supremely  happy  who,  prepared  in 
his  heart  for  every  emergency  and  every  event,  has 
given  himself  in  perfect  trust  to  the  Great  Disposer,  and 
addressed  himself  with  a  glad  heart  to  the  work  and  the 
enjoyment  of  the  present  life.  Such  a  man  makes  no 
calculation  for  misfortune  and  watches  not  for  death,  but 
does  that  which  his  hand  finds  to  do,  knowing  that  if  he 
does  not  enjoy  the  fruit  of  his  labor,  others  will,  and  is 
content  to  take  the  ills  of  life  when  they  come.  Such  a 
man  sees  woe,  only  to  do  what  he  can  to  alleviate  it. 
There  is  light  in  his  eye,  there  is  life  in  his  step.  Tome 
he  is  the  pattern  Christian  of  the  world.  The  bright  side 
of  things  is  with  him  so  bright  that  its  radiance  quite 
overpowers  the  darkness  of  the  other  side.  He  is  cheer- 
ful because  he  is  free.  Is  it  too  late  for  our  friend  to  be 
relieved  of  this  load  of  fear  and  carefulness  and  appre- 
hension ?  I  think  not.  I  believe  that  this  habit  of  his 
life  can  be  broken,  and  that  many  happy  days  can  yet 
be  his — days  of  calm  joy,  undarkened  by  a  single  care 
or  cloud,  days  of  heavenly  hope  and  trust,  and  days 
of  earnest,  far-reaching  work. 


JOHN  SMITH  JONES. 

CONCERNING  HIS  NEIGHBORLY  DUTIES  AND  HIS 
FAILURE  TO  PERFORM  THEM, 

NEXT  to  being  a  good  husband  and  father,  I  con- 
sider it  every  man's  duty  to  be  a  good  neighbor. 
A  good  neighbor !  My  heart  brims  with  gratitude  as  I 
write  the  phrase,  for  memory,  by  her  magic  call,  sum- 
mons to  their  places  along  the  track  of  the  past,  a  line  of 
ministers  of  good  to  me  in  a  thousand  ways  through 
neighborly  kindness.  Among  this  long  line  of  good 
neighbors,  all  of  whom  I  remember  with  grateful  de- 
light, there  were  some  in  whom  the  neighborly  instinct 
was  as  distinct  and  characteristic  and  original  as  the 
parental  instinct,  or  the  religious  sentiment.  Neighborly 
kindness  has  hitherto  been  regarded  as  the  offspring  of 
a  benevolent  disposition,  but  such  a  theory  degrades  it. 
It  is  a  distinct  growth  from  a  separate  seed,  and  often 
thrives  in  people  who  are  not  remarkable  for  general 
benevolence.  When  unhindered  and  thrifty,  it  is  in  some 
natures  the  distinguishing  characteristic. 

Before  I  come  to  the  treatment  of  the  case  of  Mr.  John 


286         Concerning  the  Jones  Family, 

Smith  Jones,  I  regard  it  as  a  neighborly  duty  to  pay  trib- 
ute to  some  of  those  good  neighbors  whose  deeds  are 
forever  embalmed  in  my  heart.  To  that  hearty,  loving 
woman  who  used  to  flit  backward  and  forward  between 
her  humble  house  and  my  childhood's  home,  lending 
more  than  she  borrowed,  and  always  returning  more, 
bringing  in  tidbits  of  her  cooking  to  me,  always  sharing 
her  luxuries  with  the  hand  that  cared  for  me,  watching 
with  us  all  in  sickness,  and  always  declaring  that  she 
had  done  nothing  at  all,  and  was,  on  the  whole,  ashamed 
of  the  unworthiness  and  insignificance  of  her  offices,  my 
tearful  thanks !  Though  for  many  years  she  has  walked 
in  white  upon  the  heavenly  hills,  I  hope  it  is  not  too  late 
to  tell  her  that  the  man  does  not  forget  her  pleasant 
words  and  kind  deeds  to  the  boy,  and  that  the  son, 
though  he  should  live  to  be  old  and  gray-headed,  will  al- 
ways hold  in  precious  remembrance  her  tender  service 
to  his  mother.  To  that  old  saint  whom  I  used  to  see 
stealing  across  lots  to  carry  food  and  clothing  to  needy 
homes,  and  entering  the  back  doors  of  those  homes  with 
many  apologies  for  his  intrusion,  my  acknowledgments 
for  his  beautiful  lesson  !  To  that  kind  woman  who  had 
a  large  family  of  boisterous  boys,  and  who  not  only 
understood  that  boys  had  good  appetites,  but  that  they 
particularly  liked  to  gratify  them  on  the  night  after  the 
annual  Thanksgiving,  and  found  attractions  at  her  house 
superior  to  any  other  in  the  neighborhood,  I  assume  the 
privilege  of  returning  the  thanks  of  at  least  twenty  men 


yohn  Smith  Jones.  287 

besides  myself.  And  to  him  who  took  a  young  man's 
hand  in  trouble,  and  giving  him  his  faith  and  the  voice 
of  his  encouragement,  and  sacrificing  something  and 
risking  much,  helped  him  over  the  hardest  spot  of  his 
life  into  the  fields  of  life's  successes,  my  reverence  ! 

Ah !  my  good  neighbors !  I  did  not  dream  how 
numerous  you  were  until  I  undertook  to  recall  you. 
Throughout  all  my  life  you  have  formed  the  circle  next 
to  that  which  sits  around  my  heart.  I  have  exchanged 
my  morning  greeting  with  you,  have  walked  to  the  house 
of  God  with  you,  have  met  you  at  your  tables  and  in  my 
own  home,  have  shared  with  you  the  work  of  neighborly 
charity ;  and,  ever  since  I  can  remember,  some  of  the 
constant  pleasures  of  my  life  have  come  to  me  from  you. 
In  the  days  of  darkness  your  gentle  rap  was  at  my  door, 
your  whispered  inquiry  was  constant,  your  proffered  ser- 
vice was  always  at  hand.  And  when  the  little  form  was 
carried  out  to  be  laid  under  the  flowers,  there  were 
fairer  flowers  upon  his  bosom  that  came  from  you  than 
have  ever  grown  above  it  since.  You  are  my  brothers 
and  my  sisters,  to  whom  I  feel  bound  by  a  tie  almost  as 
sweet  and  precious  as  that  which  binds  me  to  those  who 
fill  my  home. 

Exactly  how  this  rhapsody  will  strike  Mr.  John  Smith 
Jones  I  cannot  tell.  I  do  not  think  that  he  has  ever 
looked  to  see  whether  he  could  identify  himself  with 
those  of  my  neighbors  whom  I  have  endeavored  to  re- 
call.    It  seems  to  me  that  he  must  be  conscious  that  he 


288         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

is  different  in  most  respects  from  his  neighbors.  He 
must  be  aware  that  most  people  are  good  neighbors 
among  themselves,  as  most  people  are  affectionate 
parents.  The  neighborly  instinct  is  as  universal  as  the 
parental.  Let  so  much  as  this,  at  least,  be  said  for  hu- 
man nature  :  that,  without  respect  to  creed  or  culture, 
men  and  women  are,  in  the  main,  good  neighbors.  I 
have  never  yet  seen  the  place  where  the  offices  of  good 
neighborhood  were  lacking.  There  is  not  only  the  neigh- 
borly instinct  engaged  in  this  thing,  but  there  is  a  uni- 
versal personal  pride  that  fills  out  where  the  instinct  fails. 
It  is  generally  understood  and  felt  that  for  one  neighbor 
to  help  another  in  trouble,  and  for  one  neighbor  to  make 
the  path  of  another  pleasant,  are  forever  fit  and  good 
things.  This  being  recognized,  it  is  felt  that  a  gentle- 
man will  do  that  which  is  fit  and  good,  and  that  to  fail 
in  neighborly  well-doing  is  to  fail  to  prove  one's  self  a 
gentleman.  I  think  I  know  many  supremely  selfish 
men  who  are  always  spoken  of  as  good  neighbors.  They 
have  a  sense  of  that  which  is  fit  and  good.  They  feel 
that  no  person  who  pretends  to  be  a  gentleman  will  fail 
to  do  that  which  is  fit  and  good  with  relation  to  his 
neighbors.  They  feel  that  neighborhood  imposes  cer- 
tain duties  upon  them  which  they  must  perform  or  lose 
caste,  not  only  with  others,  but  with  themselves.  They 
feel  that  it  is  not  respectable  to  be  a  bad  neighbor. 

I  suppose  there  may  be  some  neighborhoods  in  the 
world  that  have  no  bad  neighbor  in  them,  but  nearly 


John  Smith  Jones.  289 

always,  though  many  are  right,  there  is  one  individual 
in  the  wrong.  Very  few  are  the  neighborhoods  in  which 
there  is  not  one  person  who  is  a  bad  neighbor.  In  his 
neighborhood,  Mr.  John  Smith  Jones  is  that  neighbor. 
He  is  always  in  a  quarrel  with  somebody  about  a  fence. 
He  is  always  very  much  afraid  that  somebody  has  en- 
croached upon  his  line.  He  keeps  a  miserable  dog  that 
worries  all  the  horses  that  pass  his  house,  and  renders  it 
next  to  impossible  for  anybody,  except  a  courageous  man 
armed  with  a  cane,  to  enter  his  door.  He  keeps  hens 
that  enter  the  gardens  of  his  neighbors,  and  scratch  up 
seeds,  and  rip  open  tomatoes,  and  wallow  in  flower-beds, 
and  make  a  nuisance  of  themselves  from  May  until  No- 
vember, leaving  nobody  in  their  vicinity  in  quiet  posses- 
sion of  his  premises.  Mr.  Jones  will  not  take  care  of  his 
sidewalk  in  the  winter,  and  I  have  thought  that  he  takes 
a  malicious  satisfaction  in  hearing  his  neighbors  curse 
him  as  they  hobble  over  the  ice  in  front  of  his  house. 
He  will  join  with  his  neighbors  in  no  effort  for  beautify- 
ing his  street.  His  consciousness  that  he  deserves  ill  of 
his  neighbors  leads  him  to  suppose  that  they  are  all 
banded  against  him,  and,  shutting  himself  into  his 
own  castle,  he  looks  out  upon  the  little  world  of  neigh- 
bors around  him  in  defiance,  and  full  of  the  spirit  of 
mischief.  He  does  not  care  how  much  he  annoys 
them.  He  would  feel  uncomfortable  if  he  did  not  annoy 
them  ;  and,  though  his  dog  and  his  hens  are  a  perpetual 
plague  to  them,  let  but  a  pet  rabbit  stray  into  his 
»3 


290         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

enclosure^  and  down  comes  his  musket  and  the  pet  rab- 
bit dies. 

How  far  he  is  to  be  blamed  for  this  it  is  impossible  to 
say.  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  is  a  legitimate  apology  for 
him  to  say  that  nature  did  not  endow  him  with  the 
neighborly  instinct.  There  is  really  something  lacking 
in  him  in  this  respect,  and,  so  far  as  this  want  exists, 
there  is  an  excuse  for  him.  There  is  a  lack  in  his 
nature  still  further  than  this.  He  is  not  sensitive  to  feel 
how  everlastingly  disgraceful  it  is  to  him  to  be  at  vari- 
ance with  his  neighbors,  and  to  do  those  things  which 
must  necessarily  make  them  dislike  him.  I  suppose 
that  if  this  paper  arrests  his  attention,  he  will  put  in  the 
further  plea,  or,  disregarding  my  apologies  for  him,  put 
in  the  exclusive  plea,  that  his  neighbors  are  quarrel- 
some, and  interfere  with  him.  Let  me  say  in  reply  to 
this  that  I  do  not  believe  the  man  can  be  found  who  is 
always  at  variance  with  his  neighbors,  who  is  not  him- 
self blamable  for  it.  I  know  men  who  are  accounted 
good  husbands,  good  parents,  and  good  men — perhaps 
religious  men — who  are  notorious  as  uncomfortable 
neighbors.  I  know  men  of  irreproachable  morals  of 
whom  I  never  heard  a  neighbor  speak  a  kind  word.  In 
such  cases  the  blame  attaches  to  the  unloved  person 
always  ;  and  if  any  man  who  may  read  these  words, 
feels  that,  as  a  neighbor,  he  is  not  loved,  let  him  take 
home  to  himself  the  conviction  that  he  is  a  sinner,  and 
that  when  he  shall  be  reformed  his  neighborhood  will  be 


John  Smith  Jones.  291 

reformed.  Quarrelsome  neighbors  are  invariably  little- 
minded  persons.  A  really  noble  mind  never  quarrels. 
A  really  noble  man  or  woman  is  never  complained  of  as 
a  bad  neighbor. 

I  think  Mr.  Jones  is  a  worse  neighbor  than  he  was 
when  he  was  less  prosperous.  Poverty  not  unfrequently 
makes  an  excellent  neighbor  and  an  excellent  neighbor- 
hood. When  men  and  women  are  engaged  in  a  strug- 
gle for  bread,  and  are  obliged  to  depend  upon  mutual 
assistance  in  sickness  and  the  various  emergencies  of 
life,  they  are  very  apt  to  be  good  neighbors.  When  Mr. 
Jones  was  poor  he  was  a  tolerably  good  neighbor,  not- 
withstanding his  want  of  the  neighborly  instinct  and 
other  noble  qualities ;  but  since  he  became  an  inde- 
pendent man,  all  his  show  of  a  neighborly  disposition 
has  vanished.  The  sense  of  independence  has  isolated 
him,  and  given  his  selfish  pride  the  opportunity  to  assert 
and  maintain  its  full  sway  over  his  little  spirit.  His 
house  is  in  every  sense  his  castle.  It  stands  as  coldly 
and  as  lonely  in  the  midst  of  the  neighborhood,  and 
seems  as  thoroughly  barred  against  neighborly  ap- 
proach, as  that  of  Sir  Launfal,  that 

"  Alone  in  the  landscape  lay 
Like  an  outpost  of  winter,  dull  and  g^ay." 

His  fences  are  high  ;  his  screens  are  broad  ;  and  be- 
hind these  he  sits,  and  self-complacently  makes  faces  at 
the  world.     If  he  borrows  of  nobody,  nobody  borrows 


292  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

of  him.  Nobody  goes  near  him,  and  he  has  abundant 
time  to  indulge  in  the  selfish  contemplation  of  his  inde- 
pendence. 

After  all,  is  not  this  a  small  and  miserable  kind  of 
life  ?  Does  it  satisfy  him  ?  I  am  prepared  to  hear  that 
it  does,  but  it  would  gratify  me  much  to  know  that  he  is 
not  so  utterly  selfish  as  to  be  contented  with  it.  Are 
there  no  times  when  he  longs  for  neighborly  sympathy — 
when  the  face  of  a  loving  and  kind  neighbor  looking  in 
at  his  door,  bent  upon  some  office  of  good-will,  or  even 
asking  a  favor,  would  seem  delightful  to  him  ?  If  such 
times  ever  come,  then  is  he  not  only  saveable  but  worth 
saving.  Sooner  or  later  the  time  must  come  to  every 
man  who  is  worth  saving,  when  he  will  feel  that  life  has 
no  genuine  satisfaction  outside  of  the  love  and  respect 
of  those  who  are  around  him.  Our  only  satisfying  life 
is  in  the  hearts  of  others.  He  may  content  himself  with 
his  family — for  the  sake  of  holding  the  respect  of  his 
family — he  must  sometimes  long  for  the  love  and  re- 
spect of  his  neighbors.  No  despised  and  hated  man, 
conscious  that  he  has  legitimately  earned  the  dislike  in 
which  he  is  held,  can  long  maintain  his  self-respect ; 
and  when  this  breaks  down,  even  the  worst  nature  will 
cry  out  for  help.  It  must  be  that  there  are  times  when 
it  would  be  a  great  relief  to  him  to  do  a  neighbor  a  favor 
for  the  asking. 

I  do  not  question  the  sincerity  of  his  belief  that  he 
has  very  bad  neighbors.     I  do  not  doubt  that  he  hon- 


John  Smith  Jones.  293 

estly  considers  them  the  worst  and  meanest  men  that 
ever  constituted  a  neighborhood.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
they  have  shown  the  worst  and  meanest  side  to  him,  and 
that,  if  the  men  were  to  be  judged  exclusively  by  the 
aspect  which  they  have  presented  to  him,  their  pictures 
would  not  be  flattering.  But  he  should  remember  that 
his  position  and  his  words  and  acts  have  only  been  cal- 
culated to  call  forth  that  which  is  evil  in  them.  They 
have  shown  their  worst  side  to  him,  because  he  has 
shown  only  his  worst  side  to  them.  He  has  provoked 
their  indifference,  their  insolence,  their  petty  revenges, 
their  spiteful  remarks,  their  cold  rebuffs,  and  all  their 
unneighborly  doings.  What  there  is  of  evil  in  them 
they  show  to  him,  because  he  has  been  only  a  bad 
neighbor  to  them.  Suppose  when  he  first  entered  his 
neighborhood  he  had  been  a  generous,  kind-hearted, 
neighborly  man,  opening  his  house  and  heart  to  those 
around  him,  entering  their  houses,  and  in  every  possible 
way  showing  good  feeling  toward  them,  and  doing  good 
through  various  schemes  of  improvement  ;  does  he 
think  he  would  have  seen  anything  of  this  unpleasant 
side  of  which  he  now  complains  ?  If  he  has  common 
sense,  he  knows  that  all  his  neighbors  would  have  shown 
him  nothing  but  good-will,  and  that  he  would  have  been 
loved  and  honored. 

Now  this  good  side  of  his  neighbors,  which  I  see  and 
he  does  not,  he  must  find.  He  can  find  it,  and,  though 
for  various  reasons   it  may  seem  to  him  now  that  not 


294         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

one  of  them  is  amiable,  he  may  learn  that  there  is  not 
one  of  them  who  is  not  more  worthy  to  be  loved  than  he 
is.  How  is  it  that  they  love  and  respect  one  another, 
while  none  of  them  love  and  respect  him  ?  Why  is  it 
that  he  is  selected  as  the  object  of  their  united  dislike  ? 
It  is  because  he  is  the  meanest  man  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  yet  he  has  times  of  believing  himself  abused, 
and  of  considering  himself  the  only  decent  man  among 
them  all.  He  feels  that  there  is  something  in  him  that 
is  lovable,  and  that  that  something  ought  to  be  loved. 
That  something  which  his  wife  has  found,  which  his 
children  have  found,  which  his  father  found  years  ago, 
should,  he  feels,  secure  the  love  and  good-will  of  his 
neighbors.  Is  he  the  only  man  of  all  his  neighborhood 
who  has  lovable  qualities  that  are  hidden  ?  All  these 
men  whom  he  has  come  to  regard  as  bad  neighbors  are 
a  good  deal  more  lovable  than  he  is,  and  they  show 
their  unlovely  side  to  him  simply  because  he  has  shown 
his  unlovely  side  to  them.  Let  him  show  the  best  part 
of  his  nature  to  them,  and  he  will  be  astonished  to  see 
how  quickly  they  will  become  lovely  to  him,  through  the 
exhibition  of  excellencies  whose  existence  has  been 
hitherto  hidden  from  him.  He  has  never  shown  any- 
thing but  his  hateful  side  to  them,  and  it  is  very  stupid 
of  him  to  suppose  that  they  will  love  that. 

I  imagine  that  this  kind  of  talk  will  do  him  very  little 
good,  but  there  are  two  motives  which  I  can  present  to 
him  that  he  can  measure,  and  that,  I  am  sure,  will  com- 


John  Smith  Jones.  295 

mend  themselves  to  his  consideration.  With  all  his 
meanness  he  is  proud,  and  he  feels  that  there  is  some- 
thing admirable  in  manliness.  Now  his  position  as  a 
neighbor  is  not  a  manly  one,  but  it  is  inexpressibly 
childish.  Is  he  a  man,  and  does  he  shut  himself  within 
the  lines  of  his  possessions,  and  quarrel  about  fences 
and  lines  of  boundary  and  encroachments  ?  Is  he  a 
man,  and  does  he  rejoice  in  making  himself  offensive  to 
those  around  him  by  petty  annoyances?  Is  he  a  man, 
and  does  he  stand  ready  to  pounce  upon  any  unlucky 
child  or  pet  of  his  neighbors  the  moment  it  enters  his 
enclosure  ?  Does  he  call  such  things  manly  ?  Is  he  not 
ashamed  of  his  childishness  ?  The  real  man  is  noble. 
He  will  himself  suffer  inconvenience  rather  than  annoy 
his  neighbor  ;  he  will  suffer  wrong  rather  than  betray  a 
small  spirit  of  revenge  ;  he  will  not  permit  himself  to  be 
degraded  by  a  quarrel  that  can  be  avoided  by  any 
generous  and  self-denying  act.  By  acts  of  justice  and 
generosity,  he  will  compeL  the  respect  of  his  neighbors 
and  vindicate  his  claim  to  manliness.  He  has  moral 
vision  enough  left  to  see  all  this,  and  sensibility,  I  hope, 
to  feel  that  a  mean  neighbor  is  no  man,  but  only  a  child- 
ish imitation  of  one. 

The  second  motive  which  I  present  to  him  is  more 
selfish  even  than  the  first,  and  for  that  reason  he  can 
appreciate  it  better.  A  bad  neighbor  has  no  influence. 
No  man  can  move  society  in  any  direction  who  has  lost 
his  hold  upon  those  who  are  around  him.     Mr.  Jones 


296  Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

has  isolated  himself,  and  he  reaps  the  consequences  in 
his  loss  of  influence.  He  is  without  power  upon  the 
world.  With  all  his  fancied  independence,  and  with  all 
the  power  which  money  gives  him,  there  is  not  a  man 
who  would  permit  himself  to  be  moved  by  him.  He 
must  become  a  good  neighbor  if  he  would  win  power 
over  others  for  any  purpose.  As  it  is,  he  is  counted  out 
of  every  ring,  and  has  no  power  to  call  a  ring  around 
himself. 

I  wish  I  could  at  least  make  him  and  every  other 
man  who  reads  these  words  feel  that  an  unpleasant 
neighbor  is  a  nuisance.  There  is  no  good  reason  why 
the  word  "  neighborhood  "  should  not  be  as  sweet  and 
suggestive  and  sacred  a  word  as  "  family."  A  neighbor- 
hood is  a  congeries  of  homes,  and  the  home  spirit  of 
love  and  mutual  adaptation  and  mutual  help  and  har- 
mony should  prevail  in  it.  Home  life  itself  is  incom- 
plete without  good  neighborhood  life,  and  every  man 
who  poisons  the  latter  is  the  enemy  of  every  home  af- 
fected by  his  act. 


GOODRICH  JONES,  JR. 

CONCERNING  HIS  DISPOSITION  TO  BE  CONTENl 
WITH  THE  RESPECTABILITY  AND  WEALTH 
WHICH  HIS  FATHER  HAS  ACQUIRED  FOR  HIM. 

THE  father  of  Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.,  by  a  life  of  integ- 
rity and  close  and  skilful  application  to  business 
has  made  for  himself  a  good  reputation  in  the  world, 
and  become  what  the  world  calls  rich.  He  lives  in  a 
good  house,  moves  in  good  society,  commands  for  his 
family  all  desirable  luxuries  of  dress  and  equipage,  and 
holds  a  position  which  places  him  upon  an  equality  with 
the  greatest  and  best.  He  began  humbly,  if  I  am  cor- 
rectly informed,  and  won  his  eminence  by  the  force  of 
his  own  life  and  character.  I  honor  him,  I  count  him 
worthy  of  the  respect  of  every  man,  and  I  find  myself 
disposed  to  treat  his  family  with  respect  on  his  account 
— ^for  his  sake.  This  feeling  toward  his  family,  which  I 
find  springing  up  spontaneously  within  myself,  seems  to 
be  quite  universal.  The  world  bows  to  the  family  of 
the  venerable  Goodrich  Jones — bows,  not  to  Mrs.  Jones, 
particularly,  as  a  respectable  woman,  but  to  the  wife  of 


298         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

Goodrich  Jones — bows,  not  to  his  children  as  young 
men  and  women  of  intelligence  and  good  morals,  but  as 
young  people  who  are  to  be  treated  with  more  than  or- 
dinary courtesy  because  they  are  the  children  of  the 
rich  and  respectable  Goodrich  Jones. 

This  feeling  of  the  world  toward  Mr.  Goodrich  Jones' 
family  is  very  natural.  It  is  a  tribute  of  respect  to  a 
•worthy  old  gentleman,  and,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  is 
one  of  the  natural  rewards  of  his  life  of  industry  and  in- 
tegrity. I  notice,  however,  that  the  family  of  Mr.  Jones 
have  come  to  look  upon  these  tributes  of  respect  to 
them  on  account  of  Mr.  Jones,  as  quite  the  proper  and 
regular  thing,  and  to  feel  that  they  are  really  worthy  of 
special  attention,  because  Mr.  Jones  commands  it  for 
himself.  Instead  of  feeling  a  little  humiliated  by  the 
consciousness  that  they  are  treated  with  special  polite- 
ness, not  because  they  are  particularly  brilliant,  or  rich, 
or  well-bred,  but  because  they  are  the  family  of  a  rich 
and  respectable  man  they  are  inclined  to  feel  proud  of 
it.  How  they  manage  to  be  vain  of  respectability  and 
wealth  won  for  them  by  somebody  besides  themselves 
I  do  not  know  ;  but  I  suppose  their  case  is  not  singular. 
Indeed  I  know  that  the  world  is  full  of  such  cases, 
many  of  which  would  be  ridiculous  were  they  not  pitiful. 

The  thought  that  Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.,  is  the  son  of 
Goodrich  Jones,  and  that  he  bears  his  name,  seems  to 
form  the  basis  of  his  estimate  of  himself.  I  have  already 
given  the  reason  why  the  world  treats  him  respectfully. 


Goodrich  Jones,  Jr,  299 

but  that  reason  need  not  necessarily  be  identical  with 
that  which  leads  him  to  respect  himself.  If,  owing  to 
some  circumstance  or  agency  beyond  his  control,  he 
were  to  be  suddenly  stripped  of  all  his  ready  money  and 
other  resources,  and  set  down  in  some  distant  city 
among  strangers,  what  would  be  his  first  impulse  ? 
Would  he  go  to  work,  and  try  to  make  a  place  for  him- 
self? Would  he  be  willing  to  pass  for  just  what  he  is — 
to  be  estimated  for  just  what  there  is  in  him  of  the  ele- 
ments of  manhood — or  would  he  endeavor  to  convince 
everybody  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  certain  very  rich  and 
respectable  Goodrich  Jones,  and  try  to  secure  consider- 
ation for  himself  upon  such  representation  ?  I  presume 
he  would  pursue  the  same  policy  among  strangers  that 
he  pursues  among  friends.  He  has  never  made  an  ef- 
fort to  be  respected  for  works  or  personal  merits  of  his 
own.  He  pushes  himself  for\vard  everywhere  as  the  son 
of  Goodrich  Jones — indeed  as  Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.  He  has 
not  only  been  content  to  live  in  the  shadow  of  his  father's 
name,  but  he  has  been  apparently  anxious  to  invite  public 
attention  to  the  fact  that  he  does.  He  has  not  only  been 
content  to  live  upon  money  which  his  father  has  made, 
but  he  seems  delighted  to  have  it  understood  that  he  can 
draw  upon  him  for  all  he  wants.  He  seems  to  have  no 
ambition  to  make  either  reputation  or  money  for  himself. 
On  the  contrary,  I  think  he  would  look  upon  it  as  dis- 
graceful for  him  to  engage  in  business  for  the  purpose 
of  winning  wealth  by  labor. 


300         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

Now  will  he  permit  one  who  has  frequently  bowed  to 
him  for  his  father's  sake,  to  talk  very  plainly  to  him  for 
his  own  ?  Let  me  assure  him,  in  the  first  place,  that  all 
this  respect  which  the  world  shows  to  him  is  unsubstan- 
tial and  unreliable.  The  man  who  treats  him  with  re- 
spect because  his  father  is  rich,  would  cease  to  treat  him 
with  respect  if  that  father  were  to  become  poor.  The 
man  who  bows  to  him  because  his  father  occupies  high 
social  position,  would  pass  him  without  recognition  were 
his  father,  for  any  reason,  to  lose  that  position.  Let  me 
assure  him  that  the  world  does  not  care  for  him  any  fur- 
ther than  he  is  the  partaker  of  the  money  and  the  respect- 
ability which  have  been  achieved  by  his  father.  Nay,  I 
will  go  further,  and  say  that,  side  by  side  with  the  defer- 
ence which  it  shows  for  him  on  his  father's  account,  it 
cherishes  a  certain  contempt  for  one  who  is  willing  to 
receive  his  position  at  second-hand.  He  cannot  com- 
plain of  this,  for  he  places  his  claims  for  social  consider- 
ation entirely  on  his  father's  position.  The  negro  slave 
is  proud  of  the  superior  wealth  of  his  master,  and  among 
his  fellow  slaves  assumes  a  superior  position  in  conse- 
quence of  wealth  which  is  riot  his  own.  He  belongs  to  a 
splendid  establishment,  and,  in  his  own  eyes,  wins  im- 
portance from  the  association.  When  his  master  fails, 
the  slave  sinks.  No,  there  is  nothing  reliable  in  this 
consideration  of  the  world  for  Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.  .He 
is  only  treated  as  a  representative  of  the  wealth  and  re- 
spectability of  another  man,  and  if  Goodrich  Jones  were 


Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.  301 

to  become  displeased  with  him,  and  were  to  disown  and 
disinherit  him,  he  would  find  himself  without  a  friend  in 
the  world. 

In  the  second  place,  his  position  is  an  unmanly  one. 
None  but  a  mean  man  can  be  willing  to  hold  his  position 
at  second-hand.  I  count  him  fortunate  who  is  bom  to 
pleasant  and  good  social  relations,  and  all  the  advantages 
which  they  bring  him  for  the  development  of  his  personal 
character  ;  but  I  count  him  most  unfortunate,  who,  bom 
to  such  relations,  is  willing  to  hold  them  as  a  birthright 
alone.  A  man  who  is  willing  to  keep  a  place  in  society 
which  his  father  has  given  him,  through  his  father's  con- 
tinued influence,  is  necessarily  mean-spirited  and  con- 
temptible. Every  young  man  of  a  manly  spirit  who 
finds  himself  in  good  society  through  the  influence  of 
others,  will  prove  his  right  to  the  place,  and  hold  the 
place  by  his  own  merits.  No  man  of  the  age  of  Good- 
rich Jones,  Jr.,  can  consent  to  hold  his  social  position 
solely  through  the  influence  of  his  father  without  con- 
victing himself  either  of  imbecility  or  meanness.  If  he 
has  any  genuine  self-respect,  he  feels  that  to  own  to 
others  what  he  is  capable  of  winning  for  himself,  and  to 
be  considered  only  as  a  portion  of  a  rich  and  respectable 
man's  belongings,  is  a  disgrace  to  his  manhood. 

I  suppose  the  thought  has  never  occurred  to  him  that 
he  owes  something  to  his  father  for  what  his  father  has 
done  for  him.  His  father  gave  him  position.  His  fa- 
ther's  name    shielded  him    through  all  his   chijdhood 


302         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

and  youth  from  many  of  the  dangers  and  disadvantages 
which  other  young  men  are  forced  to  encounter.  He 
gave  him  great  vantage  ground  in  the  work  of  life,  and 
he  owes  it  to  him  to  improve  it.  If  his  father's  name 
helps  him,  he  ought  to  do  something  for  his  name.  If 
his  father  honors  him,  he  ought  to  honor  his  father,  and 
to  do  as  much  for  his  father's  name  as  his  father  has 
done  for  his.  He  has  no  moral  right  to  disgrace  one 
who  has  done  so  much  for  him  ;  for  his  father's  reputa- 
tion is  partly  in  his  keeping.  It  would  be  an  everlasting 
disgrace  to  the  father  to  bring  up  a  boy  who  relied  solely 
upon  him  for  respectability.  It  would  be  a  blot  upon  his 
reputation  to  have  a  son  so  mean  as  to  be  content  with  a 
name  and  fortune  at  second-hand.  He  must  change  his 
plan  and  course  of  life,  or  people  will  talk  more  and 
more  of  his  unworthiness  to  stand  in  his  father's  shoes, 
and  express  their  wonder  more  and  more  that  so  sensi- 
ble and  industrious  a  father  could  train  a  son  so  ineffi- 
ciently as  he  has  trained  him.  When  this  good  father 
of  his  shall  die,  he  will  be  thrown  more  upon  himself. 
He  will  have  money,  I  presume,  and  he  will  still  sit  in 
the  comfoi'table  shadow  of  his  father's  name ;  but  the 
world  changes,  and  strangers  will  estimate  him  at  his 
true  value,  and  those  who  knew  his  father  will  only  talk 
of  the  sad  contrast  between  the  father's  character  and 
his  own. 

I  suppose  that  he  is  not  above  the  desire  for  the  good- 
will of^he  world.     Well,  the  world  is  made  up  of  work- 


Goodrich  Jones^  jfr.  303 

ers.  The  great  mass  of  men — and  his  father  is  among 
the  number — are  obliged  to  depend  upon  their  own 
labor  and  their  own  force  and  excellence  of  character 
for  wealth  and  position.  People  do  not  envy  him,  be- 
cause he  won  all  that  he  possesses  by  his  own  skill  and 
industry.  He  is  universally  admired  and  esteemed,  and 
he  is  enjoying  some  of  the  fruits  of  this  admiration  and 
esteem  in  the  politeness  of  the  world  toward  himself; 
but  this  will  not  always  last.  His  son  must  mingle  in 
the  world's  work,  and  cast  in  his  lot  with  his  fellows,  con- 
tributing his  share  of  labor  and,  taking  what  comes  of 
it  in  pelf  and  position,  or  else  he  will  be  voted  out  of  the 
pale  of  popular  sympathy.  The  world  does  not  love 
drones,  and  he  must  cease  to  be  a  drone  or  it  will  never 
love  him. 

I  suppose  it  is  hard  for  him  to  realize  that  he  is  not 
the  object  of  envy  among  men,  but  I  wish  he  could  for 
once  feel  the  contempt  which  his  parisitic  position  ex- 
cites, even  among  men  whom  he  deems  beneath  his 
notice.  There  are  many  young  men  who  have  been 
compelled  to  labor  all  their  lives  for  bread,  who  would 
shrink  from  exchanging  places  with  him  as  from  a  loath- 
some disgrace.  They  would  not  take  his  idle  habits,  his 
foppish  tastes,  his  childish  spirit,  and  his  reputation,  for 
all  his  father's  money,  and  these  men,  strange  as  it  may 
seem  to  his  mean  spirit,  are  more  respected  and  better 
loved  by  the  world  than  himself.  I  say  that  he  is  not 
above  the  desire  for  the  good-will  of  the  world,  but,  if 


304         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

he  would  get  it,  he  must  be  a  man.  He  must  show  that 
he  has  a  man's  spirit,  and  that  he  is  willing  to  do  a  man's 
work.  No  idle  man  ever  yet  lived  upon  the  wealth  won 
for  him  by  others  and  at  the  same  time  enjoyed  the  love 
of  the  world. 

All  this  he  will  find  out  by  and  by  without  my  telling 
him,  but  then  it  may  be  too  late  for  remedy.  He  is  now 
young,  but,  if  he  lives,  he  will  come  at  length  to  realize 
that,  instead  of  being  envied  he  is  despised.  He  will 
make  a  sadder  discovery  too,  than  this.  He  will  dis- 
cover that  he  has  as  little  basis  for  self-respect  as  for 
popular  regard.  Years  cannot  fail  to  reveal  to  him  some 
things  which  youth  hides  from  him.  He  will  find  that 
the  world  is  busy,  that  he  has  no  one  to  spend  his  time 
with,  and  that  the  men  who  have  power  and  public  con- 
sideration are  men  who  have  something  to  do  besides 
killing  time  and  spending  money.  He  will  find  that  he 
is  without  sympathy  and  companionship  among  the  best 
people,  and  when  he  ascertains  the  reason — for  it  will  be 
so  obvious  that  he  cannot  fail  to  see  it — he  will  learn 
that  he  is  not  worthy  of  their  sympathy  and  companion- 
ship.    In  short,  he  will  learn  to  despise  himself. 

I  have  already  spoken  to  him  of  the  debt  which  he 
owes  to  his  father,  for  what  his  father  has  done  for  him. 
There  are  some  further  considerations  relating  to  his 
family  which  I  wish  to  offer.  A  family  name  and  repu- 
tation are  things  of  life  and  growth.  The  character 
which  his  father  has  made  is  a  product  of  life,  so  grand 


Goodrich  jfones,  Jr.  305 

and  far-spreading  that  his  family  sits  beneath  and  is 
sheltered  by  it  It  is  the  law  of  all  vital  products  that 
they  shall  grow,  or  hold  their  ground  against  encroach- 
ment, by  what  they  feed  upon.  Food  must  be  constant, 
or  death  is  sure  to  come  soon  or  late.  The  character 
of  his  family — its  power,  position,  and  high  relations — is 
the  product  of  his  father's  vital  force,  working  in  various 
ways.  Not  many  years  hence  that  force  must  stop  its 
work.  His  father  will  die,  and  unless  he  takes  up  his 
work  and  does  it,  this  family  character  will  pine  and 
dwindle,  and  ultimately  sink  in  utter  decay. 

Let  Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.,  look  around  him  and  see  how 
some  of  the  rich  and  influential  old  families  have  died 
out  because  there  were  no  men  in  them  to  keep  them 
alive.  The  founder  of  the  family  did  what  he  could, 
raised  his  family  to  the  highest  social  position,  gave  them 
wealth,  bequeathed  to  them  a  good  name,  and  died. 
The  sons  who  followed  were  not  worthy  of  him.  They 
were  not  men.  They  were  babies  who  were  willing  to 
live  upon  their  family  name,  and  who  did  live  upon  it 
until  they  consumed  it.  It  is  sad  to  see  a  family  name 
fade  out  as  it  often  does,  through  the  failure  of  its  men 
to  feed  it  with  the  blood  of  a  worthy  life  ;  and  his  will 
fade  out  in  a  single  generation  if  he  does  not  imme- 
diately prepare  himself  to  take  up  his  father's  work  and 
carry  it  on.  It  is  always  pleasant  and  inspiriting  to  see 
young  men  who  expect  to  inherit  money  entering  with 
energy  upon  the  work  of  life,  as  if  they  had  their  fortunes 


3o6         Concerning  the  Jones  Family. 

to  make.  It  proves  that  they  are  men,  and  proves  that 
they  are  preparing  to  handle  usefully  the  money  that  is 
to  come  into  their  hands.  It  proves  that  they  intend  to 
win  respect  for  themselves,  and  to  lay,  at  least,  the  foun- 
dation of  their  own  fortunes.  When  I  see  such  men,  I 
feel  that  the  name  of  their  families  is  safe  in  their  keep- 
ing, and  that,  for  at  least  one  generation,  those  families 
cannot  sink.  The  desire  to  be  somebody  besides  some- 
body's son,  shows  a  manly  disposition  which  the  world  at 
once  recognizes,  and  to  which  it  freely  opens  its  heart. 

I  am  aware  that  a  young  man  in  young  Jones'  position 
has  great  temptations,  and  labors  under  great  disad- 
vantages. We  are  in  the  habit  of  regarding  a  poor 
young  man  who  has  neither  family  name  nor  influence 
as  laboring  under  disadvantages,  and  in  some  aspects  of 
his  case  we  regard  him  rightly.  But  he  has  certainly 
the  advantage  of  the  stimulus  which  obstacles  to  be  over- 
come afford.  The  poor  man  sees  that  he  must  make 
his  own  fortune,  or  that  his  fortune  will  not  be  made  at 
all ;  and  the  obstacles  that  lie  before  him  only  stimulate 
him  to  labor  with  the  greater  efficiency.  When  I  see  a 
poor  young  man  bravely  accepting  his  lot,  and  patiently 
and  heroically  applying  himself  to  the  work  of  building 
a  fortune  and  achieving  a  position,  I  am  moved  to  thank 
God  for  his  poverty,  for  I  know  that  in  that  poverty  he 
will  ultimately  discover  the  secret  of  his  best  successes. 

The  disadvantage  of  Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.,  is,  that  posi- 
tion and  wealth  have  already  been  won  for  him.     It  is 


Goodrich  Jones,  Jr.  307 

not  necessary  for  him  to  labor  to  get  bread  and  clothing 
and  a  comfortable  home.  These  have  been  won  for  him 
by  other  hands.  I  do  not  deny  that  this  condition  of 
things  is  naturally  enervating.  I  confess  that  it  takes 
much  good  sense  and  an  unusual  degree  of  manliness  to 
resist  the  temptations  to  idleness  which  it  brings ;  but  he 
must  resist  them  or  suffer  the  saddest  consequences.  He 
must  labor  in  a  steady,  manly  way  to  make  his  own  place 
in  the  world,  as  a  fitting  preparation  for  the  husbandry 
and  enjoyment  of  the  wealth  which  will  some  day  be  his. 
If  he  has  not  those  considerations  in  his  favor  which 
stimulate  the  poor  man  to  exertion,  then  he  must  adopt 
such  as  I  have  tried  to  present  to  him.  He  must  re- 
member that  to  be  content  with  a  position  received  at 
second-hand,  and  to  live  simply  to  spend  the  money 
earned  by  others,  is  most  unmanly.  He  must  remem- 
ber that  he  owes  it  to  his  father,  and  to  his  family  name 
and  fame,  to  keep  his  family  in  the  position  of  considera- 
tion and  influence  in  which  his  father  has  placed  it,  and 
that  it  is  certain  to  recede  from  that  position  unless  he 
does.  He  must  remember  that  only  by  work  can  he 
win  the  good-will  of  the  world  around  him,  or  win  and 
retain  respect  for  himself. 

If  the  disadvantages  of  his  position  are  great,  his  re- 
ward for  worthy  work  is  also  great.  The  world  always 
recognizes  the  strength  of  the  temptations  which  attach 
to  the  position  of  a  rich  young  man,  and  awards  to  him 
a  peculiar  honor  for  that  spirit  which  refuses  to  be  re- 


3o8         Concerning  the  yones  Family. 

spected  for  anything,  but  his  own  manliness.  I  know  of 
no  young  men  who  hold  the  good-will  of  the  public  more 
thoroughly  than  those  who  set  aside  all  temptations  to 
indolence  and  indulgence  which  attend  wealth,  and  put 
themselves  heartily  to  the  work  of  deserving  the  social 
position  to  which  they  are  bom,  and  of  earning  the 
bread  which  a  father's  wealth  has  already  secured.  He 
has  but  to  will  and  to  work;  and  this  beautiful  reward 
will  be  his. 


THE  END. 


^ 


I  61 


THE  LIBRARY 
'NIVERSITV  or 


A    000  886  587    5 


